Nightfall
by Angel's Fallen Knight
Summary: Re-Upload. In the dead of night she stumbles across her, crying at the swings, and everything inside her tells her to go help, but the fur could be a problem.
1. Nightfall

**This is a re-upload of Nightfall. After having Nightfall on sale for over a year, I now have the go ahead to re-release it to you guys. I'd like to thank you for all your support, and as my gift to you, here is the original version of Nightfall in all its Faberry glory. Love to you all.**

* * *

She can smell her. She can smell her and it's fucking killing her. It was hard enough at school, to deal with it, to have that smell lingering in the back of her nostrils like a bad smell that's really not that bad a smell, but a terrific smell that acts like a high dose of Viagra, but now she had to deal with it while she was just having a stroll through town?

Well, stroll is hardly what she would call it. She's prowling in the bushes behind a row of houses, hiding in and amongst the shadows to keep herself hidden while she searches for prey. She doesn't eat them, exactly, it's just good to work out the kinks and just _hunt_.

But when that smell is there, fucking haunting her, it kind of puts her off her stride. She'd just set her eyes on a rather fluffy white rabbit, it's ears pointed, eyes wide as it stared at her. It hadn't run, which was weird, because what wouldn't run when staring at wolf? But whatever.

Eyes trained, ears pricked, picking up the minute sounds of it's tiny feet rustling against the leaves at its feet just in case it was planning to run, just about ready to lunge, back legs bent, back tensed and she smelt it.

She crashed head first into nothing, the rabbit already thumping its way into some undergrowth. She whimpered, but not from the pain of her rather thick skull impacting with the ground, but from the fact that she'd missed a particularly good catch.

And that smell was back, and for more than enough times she'd care to count, she hates the fact that her sense of smell is particularly fantastic. It's there, just niggling away, and before she knows it, she's prowling again, sniffing the air, trying to pinpoint it.

It's only when she comes out from behind the houses, still hidden in the shadows, that she realizes she has to pass a road to continue following the trail. She's half tempted to just switch back into her normal form, but feeling your bones crack back into place and then having to walk around in her birthday suit isn't particularly appealing.

It's a 50/50 choice. One choice, dash across the street and hope she doesn't get seen. Second choice, forget that damn aphrodisiac and get the hell back home. It was already two am, and although he parents knew she was out hunting, her father didn't like her being out so late.

But fuck it, she's already dashed across the road and into some shrubbery, what harm can it do?

The smell is stronger now, so fucking strong her hind legs feel like they're going to collapse beneath her. But she keeps going, nose to floor, just smelling, following that trail that begs to be followed.

In the haze of it all, she finally realizes where she's going, and it's only when she comes face to face with a steel wire fence of the park, she knows. Her nose nudges the wire, and she's half tempted to just chomp through it in hopes of getting through, so she does.

Mouth wide, teeth bared, she stops and her golden hazel eyes narrow in like tunnel vision. There, swinging, alone, on a swing set is Rachel Berry. She's just sat there, in a pair of sweatpants and some weird tank that has the letter R bedazzled on the front. It's an eye sore, but when she realizes that Rachel is, in fact, crying, she just...stops.

Her backside immediately hits the ground and she just watches as Rachel lamely rocks herself on that one swing, chains slightly rusted, seat worn from use, just staring at her feet.

She looks so dejected and hurt, that she feels a whine escape her throat. If Rachel hurts, she hurts, it's always been that way, ever since they first met.

Her heart just hurts, and she does let the whine escape when one of Rachel's hands move up to brush a tear that's trekked it's way down her tan cheek. She wants to badly to be there as a shoulder to cry on, but that would hardly keep up appearances at school.

The Quinn Fabray at school could give two shits about anyone that isn't her or Cheerleading, that's the way that people perceive her to be. They just don't realize that Glee, and her parents, and her friends, and _Rachel _mean more to her than if she popular or not. People just don't tend to want to see that side of the picture, so she just keeps it hidden and locked away.

But this. This just pure fucking hurts. So she just watches, and from what she can tell, it's already past two thirty in the morning, and it really isn't safe for a girl to be out this late without anyone with her.

So she gnaws through that steel fence, molars chewing for a second before spitting out again. She licks her chops when the deed is done and the hole is big enough to finally fit through; it's only then she realizes that she's taken out one slat of the fence and maybe she should have just climbed over it instead, but once again, whatever.

She's already through, and Rachel's still sat there. So hesitantly, slowly, trying not to fucking prowl because she knows Rachel will run, she heads toward the girl, keeping her eyes locked on that tiny body.

Nothing cliché happened like stepping on a twig and Rachel's head snapping up; in fact, she made it until she was standing about ten yards away from the girl before she realized there was someone, or something else, there with her.

Rachel's eyes slowly looked up from her feet and locked on Quinn, who was just stood there, one leg poised forward, mid step.

The singer blinked, then all of a sudden she was yelping, falling backwards off the swing, and kicking at the dirt desperately to try and push herself backwards. Brown hair tousled over fear filled eyes, they remained locked on the wolf before her.

Then Quinn sat down, parked her rear end right on the ground and just sat there.

Rachel, still gasping for air that her lungs desperately needed, just stared, feet planted on the ground, knees up, leaning back on her hands.

"You're a big dog."

Quinn huffed out a laugh, mostly it was just a loud expel of air from her nose, but it seemed to make Rachel calm just a tad. Hesitantly, the girl sat up and braced her hands by her sides, just in case she had to get up in a hurry and save her ass from being eaten.

"Did you just..." Quinn watched as Rachel's throat bobbed gently, "Can you understand me?"

Quinn said nothing; the last thing Rachel needed was to go into school and start ranting about a big dog slash wolf that could _understand_ what she was saying. They'd lock her up and then what chance would she have at getting her end in? Then again, at least she wouldn't be able to smell her. Like she could right now, and god damn was it intoxicating.

She couldn't even describe the smell. It wasn't just a normal smell that any human could smell; it wasn't the perfume that Rachel wore everyday, or the smell of her shampoo, it was something feral, something imprinted on a person when they're born.

She could smell it, only she could smell it, and fuck it was heavenly.

Rachel was just watching her, still with her defenses up, so in a small gesture, she padded out her front legs and laid down, head resting on her paws. Her fur tickled her snout, but she could care less as Rachel finally sat up fully, arms wrapping around her knees.

"You won't hurt me, will you?"

Quinn just blinked, just content to listen to Rachel's voice. She heard it enough at school, but out of school, something about Rachel completely changed. Her voice didn't carry that authority (maybe it was because she was scared to death) and she just seemed to go with the flow instead of diving head first into every situation she could get her hands on.

"You're too big to be a dog," The singer almost stated, leaning her chest forward on her knees, "Are there wolves in Lima?" She seemed to contemplate it, and then she just laughed, a loud bark that even made Quinn's ears flatten against her skull, "I'm talking to a wolf. I should be committed."

The wolf snorted again, a small puff of dust lifting off the ground and drifting into the breeze at the action. Rachel watched it until the dust just disappeared into nothingness before her eyes pinned the dark golden wolf before her.

The singer sniffled and then climbed to her feet, keeping her eyes on the wolf to make sure it didn't make any sudden movements.

"I...should head home." Then slowly, she stepped back, small, cautious steps, "Stay." She ordered gently, and Quinn didn't move, no matter how much she wanted to get up and just _lunge._

Rachel didn't turn around until she was at the park gates; she bumped into a slide, tripped over the edge of a sandbox and almost collapsed over a fence, just because she was keeping her eyes trained on that wolf that refused to move.

When she left, Quinn waited until she couldn't smell Rachel anymore, then decided she'd had enough for one night and went home.

–

Santana and Brittany, contrary to popular belief, were not werewolves. They didn't even know she was a werewolf. Nor did she want to tell them. They were the biggest snitches in school and asking Santana or Brittany to keep a secret was like asking them to abstain from sex. It just didn't happen.

No one else at McKinley was a werewolf either. At first she thought Puck might have been one, but that dominant arrogance was just something he was born with, not the fact that he might have the blood of an Alpha.

She was the only werewolf at McKinley, and only a handful of people in Lima were actually wolves themselves. Some descended from them, but weren't one, others descended and could turn into one. But then again, it was only a handful, around eight or nine, and three of them were the Fabray family. Four if you counted Frannie, but she lived in Boston, so it hardly fit into the Lima category.

It was difficult, she wasn't going to lie; of course she could talk to her parents about it, but they hardly understood what it was like going to a school where she was the only wolf. It wasn't as if she could talk to anyone about it at school, whereas Russell and Judy Fabray had gone to the same school and bonded from it.

Quinn had no one to bond with, and it left her with a certain sense of loneliness. She had half the school as friends, but not one of them that she could really relate to. It sucked. So she had to deal with all the scents by herself, without being able to turn to someone and ask if they were going through the same thing. She had to deal with those primal urges that sometimes were too much to bare and she had to just go and sit in her car for an hour or so _just_ to calm down.

But over the years she just learnt to deal with it; it came with the territory. She dealt with the urges, the need to hunt, the smells, all by herself. But then when everything with Rachel went off like a bomb in her face, she had no choice but to go to her parents for advice.

"_Mom, dad? I need to talk to you both."_

_Russell adjusted his tie against his shirt as he sat, Judy sitting primly beside him. They both didn't look worried, nor did they have to be; they were linked to their daughter, they could tell what she was thinking, so before she even had chance to open her mouth, Russell raised his hand for her to be quiet._

"_You're pulling towards someone at school, aren't you?"_

_Judy's eyes snapped to her husband, and then back to her daughter, who sat before her, hands clutched tightly in her lap, almost shaking from the force of the grip._

"_Yeah. It's...getting difficult to handle it." She drifted off and sighed, eyes falling to her hands, "I need your advice. I need help with this."_

"_We'll help you. You are our daughter after all," She looked up fast enough to see her father smiling at her, "But so help me God if it's Finn Hudson..."_

_Judy all but chortled and Quinn's jaw dropped, "What's wrong with Finn?"_

"_He's a moron, Quinnie. Can you imagine how he would deal with the fact that you were a werewolf?" At Quinn's cringe, Judy laughed, "So who is it? I'm trying to hear what you're thinking but..." She looked to her husband, "Can you?"_

_Russell shook his head, "No. You're clouding the thought up for some reason." He chastised his daughter and leaned back in his seat, "Let me listen, Quinn."_

_They heard. They heard every last though, every sweet, wicked and downright dirty thought that she had for one Rachel Berry. She bit her lip, eyes shooting between the two of them before Russell cleared his throat._

"_Have you been watching porn? Because that sounded something straight out of a porn movie."_

"_Oh my God, dad!" Quinn exclaimed, slumping down in her seat, chin burrowed against her chest, all but trying to disguise the deep blush on her cheeks._

_Russell chuckled, "Go check, dear." He told his wife, "I'll talk to Quinn about the urges and you can take over with the more...intimate side of it."_

_Quinn groaned, "The sex talk, werewolf style? I'm going to die."_

All in all, they were oddly accepting at the fact that she had the urge with a girl. Apparently, although they were a Christian family, the history and needs of their werewolf genes came first. It didn't matter if a werewolf was attracted to another female, it was just natural; a common occurrence.

The fact her dad had been so cool about it though, freaked her the hell out. The talk they had however, had been so disgustingly embarrassing, that she felt like dissolving into her seat. But she had to be told, she had to sit there and listen to it because urges were something that had to be tamed, controlled, taken care of.

When a werewolf gets an urge, it's all it thinks about until that urge is given into. The longer its withheld, the stronger it gets, the more primal it gets. Then the scents come into play; you can smell the person you have an urge for, smell their every scent and it acts as an aphrodisiac to a wolf. Then there comes a time when a wolf just snaps and acts on their urge.

It happens a lot more than people think; and the daily lessons she gets from her father to deal with them, helps a hell of a fucking lot.

Hence why she can sit next to Rachel in Glee Club and not be effected one bit. On the outside of course, because on the inside it's like World War III and her urges to want to win, but she keeps fighting and forcing them down until they raise their hands in defeat. The smell...well of course it's hard to deal with, and sometimes she has to stop herself when she cranes her neck, feigning a neck ache just to get that much closer to Rachel's neck.

But she doesn't have that urge today, because what she saw only hours ago in the middle of a hazy morning light disturbed her. Why was Rachel Berry in the middle of a park, crying to herself and now seemed to be fine and dandy, hanging off Finn's every word as he talked about Halo or some other shit?

It pissed her off that she didn't know what was going on it that brunette's head, and she just wished she could hear what she was thinking; but that only happened between strong werewolf bonds, and unless Rachel had somehow become a werewolf overnight, it totally wasn't happening.

So she just sits, staring down at the book in her lap, not really reading it while she covertly looks at Rachel from time to time, just to sense some sort of change. There was nothing all Glee session, it just remained the same, even when Rachel got up to sing a solo, when they did a group number and when they all sat down together to talk about songs for Nationals.

But when Mr. Schue called time on the session and told everyone they were free to go home, Quinn's eye twitched when Rachel's scent suddenly became bold, so much so it made Quinn rocket from her seat. It smelt...so good...

Rachel glanced at her, then smiled softly before raising from her own seat, grabbing her bag and following Quinn out of the room.

Something was wrong; that wasn't a good smell for a human. Sure, it was good for a wolf, cos fuck it was like food to someone like her, but that smell, for a human, was just pure unadulterated fear.

–

She caught the damn rabbit this time and she enjoyed the way it's neck snapped in her mouth as she clamped her teeth down on it. She wouldn't eat it, although it did taste good; but like always, she killed it, left it on the ground and walked away. It was good to just hunt and kill, not always eat. Last time she ate something on a hunt, when she'd reverted back to a human she couldn't get the taste out of her mouth for days even after going through two tubes of toothpaste and a bottle and a half of mouthwash.

Her home was calling her, and it was already one in the morning; last night hunting did wonders for insomnia. But as she turned to go back home, she smelt it again. Not the kill at her feet, but Rachel. She smelt her again, she was close by.

She followed the trail, snout to the floor, snuffing the dirt as she walked. She came to same part of road again and she didn't think twice about dashing over it and into shrubbery to hide herself.

The gaping hole she'd made the night before is still there, and so is Rachel, in the same position. It's eerily similar, and she feels as if she's replaying last night over again. This time she alerts Rachel instead of sneaking up to the poor girl; she doesn't want to scare her so much she falls off the swing again.

Rachel's head snaps up when she hears a low bark, her eyes soften but her body remains stiff, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Brown eyes track the golden wolf's movements carefully, watching as each heavy paw presses to the ground with each step, the way those golden hazel eyes just lock on hers, never faltering, never wavering. It's oddly comforting.

Quinn parks her rump in front of Rachel, a good ten yards away, and just stares.

"You're back, I see?" Rachel smiles, eyes still watering. "Don't you have a family to go home to?"

Rachel watches as the wolf's ears twitch back and forth quickly, and she chuckles, fighting back a sob, "I'm sure they miss you."

Quinn knows that her mother and father miss her, she can hear them faintly in the back of her mind. She can cut their voices out completely, but it's always nice just to know they're there, safe and sound.

"Why aren't you attacking me?" Is suddenly asked, and Quinn snorts at the question, "I know you probably can't understand me but aren't wolves usually violent animals?" Quinn's ears twitch again, "Or is it because you don't see me as a threat?"

And just like deja vu, Quinn's front legs stamp out slowly and she lays down, head resting on her paws.

They sit there, in silence, together, just listening to the odd car pass in the street, or the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. Quinn doesn't know how much time has passed until she happens to glance at Rachel's watch. Three thirty in the morning.

"I should go," Rachel whispers, voice raw. She doesn't say anything else, she just rises from the swing, and walks away. She glances over her shoulder a couple times, which is understandable. There is a fucking wolf sat there after all.

–

"How is it going?" Judy asked as she placed a heaving plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and chopped tomatoes in front of her daughter and husband. Russell smiles and closes his newspaper, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple before digging in.

Quinn just shrugged, mouth too busy chomping on three rashers of bacon and half a hash brown. She's a pig at home; at school she eats like she has a stick up her ass, all prim and proper with her salad, at home she can stuff her face and eat just like her dad. Screw society.

"Are the urges becoming harder to deal with?"

Quinn swallows in time to answer her father, "They're the same."

"So why are you hunting late at night then?" Judy asked over her cup of coffee, eyes silently judging her daughter, "Unless you're dealing with urges?"

"I just want to perfect my technique." Quinn mumbled, shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

"Good," Russell praised, "I'm glad you're testing the waters." He took a long gulp of his water, "But why are you out for three hours a night doing it?"

Busted.

"I keep seeing Rachel."

Judy's eyebrow flicked up, eerily similar to her own, "In the middle of the night? Is she on her own?" At Quinn's nod, Judy scoffed, "That's not safe at all. I should speak with Hiram and Leroy."

"No!" Quinn dropped her knife and fork, sending them clattering to the plate, "Don't. I just...I keep catching her crying and then she just sits there, and she lets me sit there with her."

"You let yourself be seen?" Russell asked, approving tone all but gone.

"She doesn't know it's me, dad. I just...it's cool that she isn't freaked out by me. But she just keeps crying and I don't know what's wrong with her."

"Have you thought of asking her while you're at school? Talk to her as Quinn and not your wolf?"

Quinn shrugged her shoulders at her mom, "It's not that simple."

"And why not?"

With a sigh, the youngest Fabray grabbed her knife and fork and just continued to eat, avoiding the question entirely.

–

She gets to school and hour later and she finds Rachel at her locker, Finn stuck to her side. They're talking, he's smiling, she's smiling; it seems just like any other day. Quinn rushes past, holding her breath as she does, but when Finn calls out to her, she lets it go; she can't really talk to him if she's blue in the face.

"Finn." She glances at Rachel, barely, "Berry."

"We're scheduling a Glee meeting for this lunch time, we were wondering if you could tell Brittany and Santana when you see them?" Rachel asked, voice chirpy and excited, "Finn and I have written an excellent original song for Nationals."

Quinn just nods, feigning boredom, "Yeah. Sure."

"Awesome," Finn grins, "See you later, Quinn."

Quinn fight back the growl when Finn wraps his arm around Rachel's waist and leads her away, and barely holds it back when Rachel's scent changes to pure happiness at being held.

–

The song is alright. Okay, it's great, and it probably will give them a fighting chance at Nationals, but the fact it's a duet, wholly created for Rachel and Finn to sing, has her inner wolf just dying to rip out his throat.

Mr. Schue is over the moon, and the rest of the club is too except for the given Kurt and Mercedes who are pissed that they don't get a chance at a solo; but then again, why would they? Rachel is the strongest and most versatile singer in the club.

They agree it'll be the opening number after a vote. Quinn is half tempted just to write 'I'll sing it with Rachel' over her slip of paper, but instead puts yes. Handing it in felt like a death sentence for some reason.

–

When the bell goes during the after school Glee session, Quinn smells the shift in Rachel again. She exudes fear, and it worries her, but before she can even ask, Rachel is already out the door.

–

She doesn't go out that night; mostly because she can't deal with it anymore. Two nights in a row, just staring at a sobbing Rachel takes it's toll of a girl/wolf. It's not like she can say anything when she's a wolf either; she can't exactly dive into a philosophical discussion about why Rachel is crying and how she's going to help.

Life isn't a fucking fairy tale and things don't happen like that.

So instead, she rolls over and clings to her pillow, fighting with her body to just fall asleep. It's close to four in the morning when her body finally gives in, and she doesn't give it a second thought at the fact that it's when she usually gets in after seeing Rachel.

–

Rachel's in her AP History class, and it's driving her crazy. The singer is no where near her; in fact, she's across the room, right at the front of the class. She's right at the back, sat beside Santana who is just sat texting on her phone.

Mr. Collins, their teaching is off ranting about the Civil War, and Quinn gives into temptation. She nudges Santana, who sends her a miffed off look before looking back at her phone. "What?"

"Have you noticed anything different about Ra-Berry?"

Santana's eyes slowly drift up to lock with Quinn's, "Why?"

"Just wondering. She seems a little off."

Santana smirked, "Frickin' charming. You starting to worry about her or something?"

Her wolf screamed pride in caring about the brunette, but Quinn reigned it in, "No. I just don't want her to have a breakdown and ruin our chances in New York. It's only two weeks away."

"I doubt she's going to have a breakdown," Santana pocketed her phone and nodded her head to Rachel, "She's fine, scribbling down notes like a good little teacher's pet."

Quinn wasn't so sure.

–

There was no Glee on Thursdays due to fact that Mr. Schue handled detention after school. So Glee was cancelled, and she didn't see Rachel leave school. She hadn't seen her at all after History, and it was starting to worrying her.

She could usually sense if Rachel was nearby, or at least smell her, but there was nothing.

She cornered Finn as he walked to his truck. He told her Rachel went home, that she was sick. Quinn nodded, but her wolf raged. Something wasn't right.

–

"If you wear a hole in the carpet, you're buying a new one." Russell commented from her bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest. His hair was messy, and he was only in a baggy shirt and slacks; he'd been out hunting.

"Sorry, dad." She sat down on the edge of her bed and sighed,

"You're worried about Rachel Berry." Russell nodded his head to himself, "Understandable, with the thoughts you're having right now. What's wrong, exactly?"

"I don't know, that's the point." Quinn replied, "Every time she goes home, she exudes all this fear and for the life of me, I can't understand why."

"Fear?" Her father asked, brow furrowing, "You think she's scared to go home?"

"I don't know, that's the feeling that I'm getting from it all." She paused, "Don't quote me on that though."

Russell nodded, "Okay."

–

Two days later, Hiram and Leroy Berry greeted her as she walked in the door. Her father sat opposite them, smiling up at her with a soft smile, "Uh. Hey."

"Leroy, Hiram. My daughter, Quinn." They both smiled up at her, and Hiram even shot up out of his seat to hug her.

"She's beautiful, Russ."

"All my genes."

Quinn snorted, "What about mom?"

"What about her?" Then he smirked and looked back to the two Berry men, "So as I was saying, I think it's beneficial that you come over to dinner tomorrow evening."

Hiram glanced at Leroy quickly, then shoved his glasses back up his nose, "I think we may be busy tomorrow evening. Perhaps we could reschedule?"

Quinn wandered into the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder at her dad who just watched them, trying to somehow figure them out.

_They're lying._ She heard as she grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl.

With a sigh, she began peeling, _I know._

–

She was at the park before Rachel even arrived that night. She was sat by the swings, amusing herself by trying to catch passing small flies when the singer finally turned her.

Ears twitched when she heard the singer close in, but she kept her snout poised in the air, trying to feign indifference as she snapped at the tiny buzzing creatures that passed by.

"I haven't seen you for a while." Rachel's voice sounded so raw as she sat down on the swing, stretching her legs out, so close to Quinn's stamped down paws.

Quinn shook, ears slapping against her skull. It made Rachel giggle slightly, so it was a minor victory, but then her eyes landed on the tiny singer. She looked so small, and frail. It was like she was looking at a shadow of a former Rachel Berry. It scared her.

"I've...kind of missed you, is that stupid?"

Quinn melted.

"It is stupid," Rachel chuckled, embarrassed, "You're a wolf and I've only seen you twice before, but somehow..."

Golden hazel eyes shot over every inch of Rachel's exposed skin. It was only part of her neck and her hands, but there didn't seem to be anything there. From what her father had told her earlier on in the night, something was fishy about Leroy and Hiram. They were acting weird, almost as if they were trying to put on a show; and it wasn't like anyone turned down the opportunity to have a slap up meal at the Fabray household.

"I kind of feel safe with you."

Quinn rose off the floor and padded over to Rachel, not missing the way the girl's back straightening in reflex as she moved closer. So Quinn just sat down and curled up at Rachel's feet, luxuriating in the way the singer's shoes dug into her stomach.

She was so close and it felt so good.

–

Quinn actually speaks to Rachel on Monday. It's a shock to say the least, and she can see that in Rachel's eyes when she passes and offers a hey to the singer. Rachel's so shocked that Quinn is almost around the corner when she finally hears a 'Hello!'

It's enough to make the day seem worth it.

–

Tuesday, she says hey and a slight raise of a hand as she passes Rachel by her locker. Rachel clutches her books so close to her chest that Quinn's shocked they don't travel right through her body. She's almost down the hall when she hears, 'Hello Quinn!' behind her.

–

Wednesday, Finn is with Rachel, so there's no hello. But when Quinn passes her after lunch, when Brittany and Santana are off on one of their janitor closet trysts, Quinn eyes warm as she offers a quiet hello to Rachel in passing.

She doesn't get an hello in return this time, and she's sure it's because of the way she looked at the singer. It would shock anyone into a coma.

–

On Thursday, Quinn is at her locker, grabbing her Chemistry book when Rachel passes behind her and then stops. "Hello, Quinn."

The blonde turns, regards her and nods, "Hey Berry."

Rachel swallows in reflex, nods and then walks away.

To the people around them its a meaningless exchange, but to Quinn it means the world.

–

It's not until Glee Club on Friday that Rachel says hello to Quinn. She's at the piano when Quinn walks in, and she actually stops what she's doing to turn and smile at the blonde. It warms her insides and she swears she feels her wolf almost purr at the sight.

So she smiles back and sits down next to Brittany and Santana.

–

Monday through to Friday, Rachel doesn't appear at the park on the night. She can smell the lingering scent of the brunette as she sits at the swings and waits and hour, but she knows the singer has already been and gone.

As each night passes, she appears ten minutes earlier than usual. Each time, there's a lingering scent. But nothing but a swing that swings dejectedly in the breeze.

Saturday is entirely different though. Santana wants to hang out, and she does too, but her father promised to take the day off work and go hunting together. As a family. Judy too, which hardly ever happens, so she tells the Latina another time and goes out and hunts with her family.

It's a huge bonding experience, and when she watches her father, a silver, almost triple her size wolf dive for a deer on the outskirts of Lima, she can't help but be an awe. Her father, while in his early fifties, still has the agility of a twenty year old as a wolf.

In a way, she kind of wants to be like him when she grows up. She wants to be that strong, that proud, that courageous; be the one who catches a deer with nothing but a simple lunge as her own child watches on with awe.

Light gold shimmers in her peripheral vision, and she turns her head to watch her mom, slightly smaller than she, return with a hare in her mouth. It makes her smile; knowing that as a wolf, her mother can still go out and hunt. Her father demands that Judy only do housework as a human; she's pinned down to the tribulations of a Christian man's wife, but as a wolf, Russell allows her to do as she pleases. She can hunt just like her husband, she can get her snout in the dirt and not have to worry about appearances. It's exhilarating.

She heads off into the woods to find her own catch, hoping to prove her hunting worthiness to her father.

–

They don't return until late Sunday night. And although she's been hunting all weekend, Quinn still goes out under the pretence of hunting. Russell and Judy just agree and tell her not to wear herself out; that she has school in the morning, but she knows that they know she's going out to see if Rachel is at the park.

Rachel is there. Knees to her chest, face buried in them. It aches Quinn as she jumps over the fence that's now been replaced. She hurts her stomach as her hind legs kick her over it, but her eyes remain trained on Rachel.

There's no loud sobbing, only gentle sniffles as Quinn walks closer. She's shocked when she stops right beside the singer, and she doesn't even notice. So she nudges the girl's arm with her snout, and almost gets a fist in her face when Rachel jolts from her position.

"Are you trying to scare me?" Rachel asked through tears, "You almost give me a heart attack!"

She sounds so angry, and in reflex, Quinn steps back. Rachel's watery brown eyes finally lessen in intensity, and the anger all but dissipates, "Just howl or something when you're nearby. You can do that right? You've done it before."

Rachel isn't wearing a jacket, and she's only in a tank and a pair of shorts. It's cold out, even for Quinn and she's covered in thick fur. So she does the only think she can do. She sits down beside the singer and nudges herself close.

The brunette hesitates, but soon enough, her arms are wrapping around Quinn's neck. The wolf's nose is so close to Rachel's neck, and she so close to nuzzling, and the urge to flick her tongue out just to taste that skin is so overwhelming that it almost kills her.

They stay like that for going on an hour before the grip around Quinn's neck finally slackens, and Rachel's pulling away to stand up. But before she does, she pats Quinn's head, and in reflex, Quinn licks Rachel's cheek, savoring the taste of her tears on her tongue.

Rachel chuckled softly, "Is that your way of telling me I look horrible?" She asked before standing, patting the wolf's head again and walking out of the park.

Quinn's tempted to follow, but by the time she's made up her mind, Rachel's scent is gone.

Only then she realizes that she doesn't even know where the singer lives.

–

Finn and Rachel aren't talking on Monday. Finn isn't at his girlfriend's locker when Quinn passes, so she shoots the brunette a smile which is softly returned. It warms her until lunch when everything just goes to shit.

She's heading to the cafeteria, walking past the auditorium when she hears shouting. Loud shouting, even for her ears. When she pushes open the door, she sees Finn looming over Rachel, who's stood with her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

"Why did you break up with me? At least tell me that!"

"I have other things to deal with, Finn. I'm sorry if you don't agree with my decision but I'd rather concentrate and focus on my own problems rather than listen to you rant about how the Xbox 360 is superior to the Playstation 3."

Quinn bites her bottom lip to fight back a growl when Finn steps closer to his gir- ex girlfriend.

"I love you, Rach. Don't you get that?"

"And I love you," She replies with a defeated sigh, "But please don't make this anymore difficult then it already is."

Finn's fist clench, and Quinn feels ever muscle in her body tense, just in case she has to lunge at the six foot giant. But then Finn is shaking is head, "You can't come back from this, Rachel. We're done after this."

"We were done two days ago." Rachel drops her arms, "I'm so sorry, Finn. I'll always love you but..."

"Yeah. Problems." He lunged down and grabbed his backpack, "I get it."

What shocked Quinn more was the fact that even though Rachel watched Finn leave, she didn't even shed one tear.

–

Quinn corners Rachel outside in the parking lot before the singer has a chance to escape into her black Focus. Rachel's eyes are wide when Quinn calls out to her, but stops none the less, throwing her back into the back seat before slamming the door shut.

"Quinn?"

"I heard about you and Finn," She said, coming to a stop before her, "Tough break." She had to sound indifferent. But it came off all wrong, and when Rachel frowned, she mentally kicked herself.

"Well he's all yours now, I suppose?" Rachel asked, not really wanting an answer, "You're free to have him."

"No, that's not what I-,"

"I have to go, Quinn. I'm expected at home."

The blonde actually slaps herself around the back of her head when Rachel's car is out of sight, and she doesn't really care that two jocks stop and laugh at her as she does it.

–

"So it's not the boyfriend, then?" Judy asked at the dinner table, carving the lemon chicken in the centre of the table.

"Nope." Quinn replied, mouth salivating at the chicken, "I mean, she didn't even cry. Every time I see her, she's crying."

"You said that she told Finn she was having problems?"

"Well, yeah..." She lingered, looking at her dad who poured a generous helping of peas and carrots onto his plate.

"Home problems?"

Judy piled chicken onto her husband's plate, "That would account to why Leroy and Hiram are acting so weird of late."

Quinn narrowed her eyes in contemplation, stabbing the chicken with her fork when it finally arrived on her plate.

Leroy and Hiram Berry.

She doesn't go to the park. Straight after dinner, in fact, she goes to the Berry house with directions that her father had given her. She goes as Quinn, not her wolf, because apparently she had to travel along busy roads to get to Rachel's house that was way across the other side of town and almost five miles away from the park they met at every night.

Rachel walked five miles to the park, then another five back. Why walk a collective ten miles? Was she trying to get as far away from her home as she possibly could or something?

So Quinn took her dad's car, and parked across the road and down six houses. The Berry's was number fifteen, so her eyes remained trained on the pale blue door, just waiting for some sort of movement.

She was there for two hours until a car pulled into the driveway, a black Lexus, beside a silver Prius. Stark opposites if she'd ever seen one. Leroy climbed out of the car, all five foot nine of him, pulling his briefcase along with him.

Quinn expected him to walk straight into the house, but he fumbled around in his jacket pocket for a while before pulling something out of one of the pockets. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him slip his wedding ring back on his ring finger and walk into the house.

"He's cheating on his husband." Quinn pushed her bangs back from her eyes and scoffed, "And Rachel knows."

No less than five minutes later, Rachel leaves the house, this time in baggy light blue jeans, long sleeved white linen shirt and tennis shoes. She's down the drive when she glances back at the house, shakes head and then starts off in a run down the street, away from Quinn and her car.

"Shit."

Quinn climbs out of the car and only just remembers to lock it with the electronic device on the key chain as she's running down the road, trying to follow Rachel, but scent, she can't smell it as well as she could if she was a wolf.

So she runs, trying to keep up, holding onto that lingering scents that rapidly disappearing. Only when she passes an abandoned car factory that hadn't been used in years, does she stop. She glances from the road, to the factory and makes a split second decision.

She climbs over the rickety wire fence and disappears into one of the empty warehouses. She waits around for a few minutes, just making sure to place is deserted before clenching her muscles, squeezing her eyes shut and allowing her wolf to make its appearance.

It doesn't hurt half a much as it did the first dozen times, but the discomfort is still there as she collapses to her hands and knees, feeling her bones crack and break as her human body contorts into it's animalistic forms.

It's intense, so much so that she feels she could faint from exhaustion as her body changes. Her body contorts, skin turns abrasive and rough before the fur begins to finally appear. Her body morphs, her face twists and expands. That's what hurts the most, because she can feel the pressure on her brain.

But she's managed to get it down to a tee. It took two hours her first transformation, now it only takes a minute at the most.

She huffs and howls as her body aligns itself into his wolf form. Then when her body finally relaxes, she takes one almighty sniff and starts off in a run, dashing toward the back the car lot and taking the back roads to follow Rachel's trail.

No doubt the police wouldn't think twice about shooting her if they see a wolf in the open public streets.

–

Rachel wasn't on the swings when she arrived, in fact, she was sat on the slide, right at the top, just waiting to slide down...or not. Quinn waits, and watches, but Rachel just sits there, hands clutching the tiny slide as her legs extend down half of it.

It was made for children, and although Rachel was small, she wasn't that small. Christ, she wasn't a dwarf or anything, contrary to what Santana said.

Rachel sees her before Quinn has time to react. She ears prick up when she faintly hears, "Come here." So she does, because suddenly she's so whipped and she can't refuse Rachel Berry a single thing.

She stops at the bottom of the slide, looking up at Rachel who just stares at her. It's unnerving slightly, because suddenly, she feels so naked, almost like she can't hide behind her fur anymore.

"You followed me here."

Quinn puts her front paws on the bottom of the slide, her upper body slightly higher.

Rachel pulls out her phone, a bedazzled pink monstrosity, "It's only eight pm. You usually don't come here until after midnight." Then she puts her phone away and sighs, "It's like you know when I need someone by my side."

Finn screams into Quinn's thoughts, and she's just confused. Finn could have been there, by her side. It didn't particularly make her happy, but Rachel did have someone by her side until she threw him out on his ear.

"A wolf..." Rachel suddenly sighs, "I'm not even worried that I'm talking to a wolf anymore. I should be, but I'm not." She tucks a lock of brown hair behind her ear, "It's like you can understand everything I say."

She desperately wants to tell Rachel who she really is, but the thought of rejection just makes her want to run away, run far away and never come back, never see the singer again, forget about her urges.

But she's climbing up the slide, feet skidding against the cheap plastic, and she knows she looks like a struggling oversized rat or something, but she wants to be closer to Rachel. Needs to be closer.

Rachel giggles gently, extends her arms and gently whispers an apology before grabbing the wolf by the fur and helping her up. It doesn't hurt; it just feels like a light tug. But then she's towering over Rachel, all but in her lap, and it feels so perfect even though Rachel looks like she's about to fall backwards off the slide and the slide feels as if it'll collapse under their collective weight. But they just sit there, content.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm crying all the time, right?" Quinn hears, slightly muffled against the fur of her chest. She feels Rachel shudder against her, trying to fight back the tears that threaten to burst free, so she gently settles her head on top of Rachel's and just stays there, trying to pour some strength from the simple gesture.

"I feel as if I can talk to you, because in a way, you won't judge me." Rachel sighed gently, "Everyone judges me. They all assume I'm doing something for my own gain, but I'm not. I don't really have any friends, just people I share a room with an hour a day. I can't talk to them, or trust them with what I have to say."

She was quiet for a long time, and the sun was just beginning to set in a haze of light orange when Rachel spoke again.

"My daddy is cheating on my dad." Rachel whispered, broken, "Dad knows, and they argue...the argue all the time and I'm caught in the middle. They try to use me against one another and I'm _sick_ of it."

Quinn clenches her jaw, and she knows Rachel felt it because suddenly Rachel's moving down the slide beneath her and dropping to the floor. Quinn leaps off the slide and circles to face Rachel, who's clutching her arms around herself, staring at the sky, almost praying for support.

"Dad always says 'don't shout at me in front of Rachel' or 'do you really want our daughter to hear about your sordid affair?'." Rachel lowers her head to look at the wolf sat in front of her, staring at her with almost sympathetic eyes. It's so unnerving, that an animal can show sympathy, it's almost not right; the way that a wolf is staring at her like she's the moon and the stars.

But it's oddly satisfying.

"Then daddy tries to get me on his side, and I don't want to take sides, because I love them both. I know what daddy is doing is wrong, but my dad isn't completely innocent. He treats my dad like dirt most days, and I'm there to pick up the pieces and try to keep them together." She shudders out a breath, "I'm trying so desperately to keep my family together that I'm ignoring everything else around me."

Quinn nudges her leg with her snout and sits back down again, returning to look up at her, "You want to know what I'm ignoring?"

The wolf's ears twitch, and Rachel laughs lightly through a sob, "Nosy, aren't you?"

Quinn immediately loves the gesture, lolling her tongue out of her mouth, because Rachel crouches down in front of her and scratches her behind the ear. Her back leg thumps slightly against the dirt as Rachel scratches harder.

She's never had anyone scratch her behind the ears before, but now she knows she wants Rachel to do it all the time.

"I think I know why I find it so easy to open up to you."

Then Rachel's cell is ringing in her pocket, Defying Gravity, as she once told the Glee Club during one of their sessions Sophomore year, so Quinn isn't surprised. The singer pulls out her phone, sighs at the display then flips it open, answering with a soft, "Yes?"

Rachel continues to scratch the wolf's ear softly, stroking the fur from time to time as she listens to the person on the other side of the call. Then there's a, "Okay." and the phone is flipped shut.

"I need to go home."

Quinn wants to protest, but she knows she can't. She wants to know why Rachel finds it so easy to open up to a damn wolf, but then Rachel is kissing her softly on the top of her head and walking away.

She forgets her own name and doesn't move for ten minutes.

–

A day later, Quinn finds Rachel in the auditorium, sitting at the piano and practicing her scales as if nothing had happened. She had to applaud the brunette, her act of indifference was one that could win Oscars, but she doesn't miss the way her back stiffens when she finally notices the blonde walk toward her.

"Quinn." She smiles, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"How're you, Berry?" She asks, leaning against the piano.

Rachel seems shocked at the question, "Oh, I'm doing very well thank you. Yourself?"

Quinn just nods and all but inspects Rachel. She seems fine, except for those growing bags under her eyes and the hair that's pulled up in a sloppy ponytail like she couldn't be bothered this morning.

"You got me wrong about Finn. When I asked if you'd ended it, I didn't mean it as an opening to get back with him."

The brunette nods and returns her attention back to the keys of the piano, "I regret for lashing out. I just had a very stressful day."

"I get it," Quinn nods, half wishing she was as courageous with her intentions as she was as a wolf. She can feel and smell the hurt and discomfort radiating off of Rachel and she has to bite down on her bottom lip not to hug her or do something equally weird that would probably get the singer running out of the auditorium screaming, "So you're okay?" She asks again, just for clarification, even though she knows the singer is lying.

"I'm fine." She replies with a forced smile, making sure to lock eyes with Quinn, "Just fi-,"

She stops, and Quinn flicks an eyebrow up in question. The brunette seems frozen, and for a second, she thinks Rachel's having a heart attack or something, because her eyes are wide and her mouth is opening and shutting like a land ridden fish.

The fuck.

"Uh. Rachel?"

Suddenly, Rachel slips out of it and shakes her head, "I apologize, you just...reminded me of something."

"Like what?" Quinn asks, feeling as if she's scribbling her signature down on her own personal death sentence.

Rachel smirks, "You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you." Then she shakes her head, "I think I'm going crazy now. I mean, you're talking to me after all."

"Why wouldn't I talk to you?"

The brunette just smiles, "Because I'm Rachel Berry."

Quinn just nods, "Yeah well, I don't care." Then she crosses her arms over her chest, "What did I remind you of?"

Rachel seems oddly humored by Quinn's response, "Just something, never mind about that."

"You seemed freaked out for a little bit there," She was pushing, she needed to hear it. Could she put her faith in the human Quinn just as much as the wolf Quinn?

"It was just a weird sense of deja vu." When she returns her attention back to the piano, Quinn feels herself deflate; wolf one. Quinn zero.

–

Quinn makes sure to keep an eye on Rachel for the rest of the week. She seems fine, but Quinn knows different, and her nose knows different. The singer keeps her show face on, but the blonde knows what's going on, and sometimes she sees Rachel's falter, but only for a half a second before slamming that show face back on.

It's only half a second, but it's there. And it's killing Quinn. She can hear her wolf howling right at the back of her head, begging for her to come clean, to talk to Rachel, to make her feel better more than her wolf could.

So she does.

She corners Rachel after Glee Club when she's packing away her sheet music. Finn leaves them to it, thankfully; he seems to have gotten the hint that Rachel doesn't want to be with him, or maybe it was the fact that Quinn just glared until he admitted defeat and left.

"This is becoming a trend." Rachel says playfully, "People will begin to think we're friends, Quinn. Do you really want that?"

"We need to talk."

Rachel sobers, "Okay."

"I know you're lying about being okay. I know you're not. You're a great actress, you're hiding it well, but I can tell. I know something is going wrong, and you don't want to tell anyone about it because you feel like they won't care but-,"

And Rachel's fucking laughing, like...outright laughing and Quinn's taken back.

"Did I say something funny?"

Rachel sobers, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes, before finally saying, "Please don't act like you care."

And she's gone.

–

Quinn avoids Rachel for a week. They only talk to one another because they're on the same flight to New York. It's Nationals, everyone's pumped, including Rachel, but Quinn just puts it down to the fact that she's away from her feuding father's for a few days.

They only speak to one another because they have to. Choreography, who sings what part of their group song Light Up the World and what they're all going to do when they finally land at JFK and explore the Big Apple.

Quinn is content to just sit back and watch Rachel finally be happy about something, because after all, New York is her dream. But she's still hurt, because Rachel thinks she doesn't care. So she tries not to.

–

It all goes to shit when Finn kisses Rachel after their duet. It's fucking disgusting and Quinn almost feels the bone in her right arm crack as her wolf tries to rip free, but she reigns it in, barely, and she shuffles from foot to foot and focuses on the choreography.

It works. Only just.

They make it through the song, but during, Quinn can't help but hazard a glance at Rachel who's putting on that show face again, and it looks even more fake than usual. But she doesn't know whether it's because she's confused or just conflicted.

–

They rank thirteenth. Santana blames Rachel and lunges for her. Quinn barely holds the fuming Latina back, and she knows Santana is beyond pissed because she's mentioning something and Lima Heights Adjacent again.

Rachel just looked lost, and only leaves the room when Tina, bless her soul, tells her it would be for the best. No one follows her, not even Finn who just looks pissed at himself for destroying their chances of taking Nationals.

Quinn wants to punch him. She barely avoids doing so.

–

They were at JFK, solemn, waiting for their flight to be called back to Ohio. No one had really spoken for a few hours, not even Brittany, who tended to lighten up the mood of the group regardless of what she did.

It's horrible, and uncomfortable, and she could sense that everyone just wanted to go home and get the hell away from each other. Quinn felt the same way, especially with the fact every time she closed her eyes she remembered doing that half assed glance over her shoulder and seeing Finn and Rachel kissing after Pretending.

It was half assed glance that just etched itself into her brain and refused to disappear. She wanted to tear something apart. Perhaps Finn.

She promises herself to go hunting when she's back in Lima.

–

She does go hunting. She doesn't even stay home long enough to hold a conversation with her parents. She just dumped her luggage in her bedroom and disappeared right back out the door. She can hear her dad telling her to come home, but she just blocked him out. She was wants to hunt, she wants to kill someone and pretend it's Finn because Finn is a fucking dickhead with no sense of self respect for the Glee Club or how hard they'd worked because all he wanted was his girlfriend back and...

Fuck, she really wanted to kill something.

It's horrible, but she loves it. She chases squirrels, rabbits and even a few raccoon's just because she can. She kills each time she catches something, and doesn't regret it for a second. It's calming, and the urge to lock her mouth around Finn Hudson's throat and rip it apart finally, slowly, but finally begins to dissipate.

She's halfway home, blood around her chops when she finally decides to let herself hear her mom and dad again. Judy is thinking about dinner, but Russell is calling out to Quinn.

_Get your ass home now, Quinn._

He doesn't sound angry, although he cursed, but she rushes home anyway. Russell is prowling the living room when she walks in, pulling on a shirt from the bag of clothes she keeps stashed away in the back garden for when she reverts back to being a human again.

"What's wrong?"

"Your room is what's wrong."

Once again, he doesn't sound pissed and Quinn is just confused, "I could have cleaned my room later on, dad."

"No. Go up to your room now."

Her jaw dropped, "Dad, I just wanted to hunt. I was stressed out because of New York and-,"

"Shut up and go upstairs." He put his index finger to his lips, pointing it up to the ceiling. She just watched him, eyes narrowed in confusion.

_Rachel is upstairs in your room._

"What?!" She all but screeched and lunged up the stairs like a bat out of hell. She tripped twice on the same step as she launched herself up it, and she checked her shoulder when she opened her door and walked into the door frame, but there, just like her father had said, was Rachel Berry, sat on her bed.

"Uh. Hey."

"Hey." She sounded completely indifferent, and it set Quinn's teeth on edge. She closes the door behind her, because somehow, she feels safer with the door closed.

"Why are you in my room?"

"Do you blame me for losing Nationals?"

The blonde rolled her eyes, "No, I blame Finn." The she paused and dead pans, "Because he's a dickhead."

Rachel would have giggled at Quinn Fabray giggling if she wasn't so pissed, "Okay. So why the silent treatment...?" She's hurt. Really fucking hurt.

Quinn scoffed, "You literally told me to 'not act like I care'." She leans against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as she regards the brunette on her bed, forcing the thoughts away that she could just pin the beautiful girl to her bed and fuck her senseless. She was so close, right where Quinn wanted her, smelling so fucking delicious and she desperately wanted to do it but...

"It's just a shock you know," Rachel sighed gently, "I've known you for half my life, and in that time all you've done is treat me like dirt, call me names, drawn pornographic pictures of me on the bathroom walls...why the sudden attitude change?"

She could come clean right now, but the arrogant side of her just makes her think that Rachel doesn't deserve the truth.

"What, so I can't care for a friend?"

"So I'm a friend now?" Rachel asked, sitting forward slightly, "When did that happen? I wasn't aware."

Quinn stayed silent.

Rachel sobered, "I thought you'd at least have the guts to tell me." She sounded so utterly disappointed and it broke Quinn in half.

"About what?"

Rachel shook her head and stood from the bed, straightening out the skirt she wore on the plane home from New York, "Never mind then. I have to get back home."

Quinn doesn't stop her.

–

They don't speak at school, in fact, they hardly even look at one another. Glee Club isn't even scheduled anymore because the term is over; but Quinn only sees it as a lost opportunity to talk to Rachel.

She's still confused as to what the brunette meant, although in her heart of heart she knows exactly what she meant. She just doesn't want to admit it to herself.

Rachel's heading out to her car when Quinn catches sight of her for the first time in two days. She seems to be carrying herself better than when they last saw one another, and Finn is no where to be seen. In fact, every time Quinn had seen the lumbering oaf, he seemed to be more and more pissed with each passing second.

Obviously Rachel decided not to take him back.

He made her wolf feel happy, but when she watched Rachel disappear into her car, she can't help but sigh. Summer was only a week away.

–

They don't talk or even look at each other for the last remaining week of school. When the other Glee members wish each other a happy summer, Rachel offers hers to them, but not to Quinn, blatantly leaving her out.

Santana notices, but says nothing, she's too busy dealing with her own shit with Brittany.

–

It's three weeks into summer when Quinn, as her wolf, finally sets her eyes on Rachel. She's at the park, surprise but not really. She seems fine, she doesn't look like she's been crying, but she still hesitates when she walks toward the brunette.

Rachel doesn't acknowledge her when she sits down, ten yards between them again, because somehow, she thinks Rachel will feel better with the distance between them both.

It's ten minutes before Rachel even looks at her.

She looks so broken, so dejected that Quinn actually howls in pain, because somehow, she can feel it. She can feel that pain, feel that dejection.

Rachel blinks slowly, almost as if she really isn't controlling her own body. But then she takes a deep breath and clutches the chains at her sides, kicking herself softly off the dirt and swinging ever so slightly.

Quinn watches her for an hour before Rachel gets a call and leaves.

–

Judy notices her daughter pulling away, and Russell tells her to leave Quinn alone, to deal with it herself. As a mother, it kills her, but she agrees with her husband's wishes.

Quietly, in hushed tones, they speak to one another in his office as he fills out paperwork, keeping their thoughts blocked from their daughter who slept upstairs.

"She's pulling away from us."

"She's doing it for a reason," Russell whispers back, sifting through his paperwork, "She has to come to a difficult decision, and we'll be there in the aftermath."

Judy frowns, "You really think that Rachel can be trusted with this? This is our family, our heritage, Russ."

Russell taps his pen against his lips, then after a beat, shrugs, "We'll have to see, won't we?"

"I don't like this, Russell."

"Neither do I, but we can't choose who Quinn urges for."

"I just hope this turns out well."

"It'll only get worse before it gets better."

–

Two days later, two am in the morning, Quinn lays in the park, head resting on her paws as she waits. She could smell Rachel, she could smell the girls scent ten minutes ago, it was only a matter of time before she entered the park.

Eventually, Rachel does, and Quinn's head picks up off her paws, ears poised upright as Rachel draws closer.

The singer takes her seat at the swing, quietly, eyes locked with the wolf, "My father's are getting a divorce." She kicks off the ground and allows gravity to swing her, "They agreed while we were in New York."

Quinn whimpers.

Rachel sighs, "I guess it's for the best, right? You can't force a family together that refuses to work."

They're both quiet. Quinn lays her head back down, and only after half an hour of watching Rachel swing softly back and forth, does her whole body shoot up and step back in reflex.

Rachel smiles sadly to herself, "You just noticed." She kicks off the swing and leaves.

_They agreed while we were in New York._

–

Quinn knocks softly on the Berry's door and waits, trying not to die of a heart attack as she does so. Her heart feels as if it could jump out her chest and run a couple laps around the Earth before it even thought about slowing.

She was going to do it. She was going to tell her one secret that could either destroy her or make her feel significant in a completely insignificant world.

And it was all in Rachel Berry's hands.

The door swings open, and a tall African American answers the door, Leroy. "Quinn." His eyes quickly scan her, trying to get over the shock of seeing her on his doorstep, "I take it you're here to see Rachel?"

"Uhm, yes."

She hesitates, trying to reign in her anger when Leroy lets her pass by him and into the house. She wants to scream, kick off; ask why he was ruining such a good family. But he just directs her up the stairs and says, "Last door on the right."

–

Rachel is sat at her laptop, searching for something on Google when Quinn walks in; after knocking and being told to come in of course. Rachel turns in her desk chair and watches as Quinn shuts the door behind her, leaning back against it.

Quinn swallows, feeling her mouth go suddenly dry, and all she wants to do is launch herself out of the window and go back home.

"I'm a wolf." She whispers, locking eyes with Rachel.

"I know."

They're quiet, but it's not uncomfortable, it's oddly comforting. Then she's crying, because it feels so good just to _tell _someone what she really is. She's finally able to tell someone who can just say 'I know' and mean it. Two words, and it might as well be a monologue of love and devotion.

It's acceptance. The one thing she's ever wanted.

"I'm disappointed though." Quinn rubs at her eyes and sniffles, "I wish you would have told me yourself instead of me having to drop hints until you realized I knew."

The blonde shrugs her shoulders, "When did you know?"

"In the auditorium, at the piano. Your eyes."

Quinn nods and expels a long breath to calm herself, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

"Of course I do." Rachel nods in agreement, "But I'm still angry with you for not telling me."

"You have to understand that I couldn't tell anyone." Quinn fought back calmly, locking eyes with Rachel once more, "There's only a small handful of werewolves in Lima, and...if we're wiped out for any reason, that's the end of us. For good."

"The fact that you couldn't _trust me_ enough to tell me..." Rachel sighs shakily, "Breaks my heart."

"Understand it from my point of view."

"I do." Rachel conceded, "But it doesn't mean I like it."

"I'm surprised you're not completely freaking out."

Rachel smirked weakly, "I've met your wolf plenty of times; why should I be freaking out? Your wolf calmed me down a lot more than you think."

"I know, I could smell it on you." Quinn replies without really thinking.

The singer cringes, "Gross. You can smell me?"

Quinn shrugs helplessly, "Kind of a wolf thing."

–

They're at the park, later that night, sat together on the swing, "It's weird, seeing you here as a human."

Quinn chuckles, "Yeah, it's weird being able to talk to you instead of poking at you with my nose."

Rachel ducks her head, "It's adorable...when you do that."

The blonde blushes and kicks herself off the ground, extending her legs with each push forward to try and get higher. They engage in some form of challenge, to see who can get higher. It makes Rachel giggle, and in turn, makes Quinn feel some semblance of joy because Rachel is laughing for the first time in a long time.

They come to a still eventually, and their laughter has all but died out into the wind, "I'm sorry about your dads...I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

The singer nods, "I know."

"I'm here for you, you know." Rachel turns her head to look at the blonde beside her, "You know...human form, wolf form...whatever."

Rachel is quiet for a little while, and it unnerves Quinn; she feels her wolf desperately begging for her to ask what she wants, but she just waits, impatiently but patient, until finally Rachel opens her mouth.

"Wolf for now." The brunette nods to herself, "Then...we'll work on the human side, okay?"

It's a compromise she's willing to take.

"Just as long as I'm there for you, that's all I want."

It makes her heart beat faster when Rachel blushes, "Thank you." Then she adds, "For everything."

And damn, her wolf was howling, so painfully loud inside of her, and...was that her parents?

_Kiss her Quinn!_

_Quinn, if you don't kiss her right now, I'm ashamed to be your father. Well, not really. But you get my point._

"Jesus," Quinn whispers, scratching the back of her neck with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" She hears, but she doesn't look up, she just keeps her head bowed, hand braced on the back of her neck in a massaging motion.

"I can just...hear my parents in my head..."

"Another wolf thing?"

"You betch'ya."

"Ah..." Rachel pauses, and suddenly, Quinn finds her shoes incredibly interesting. "So what are they saying?"

Quinn slowly looks up, swallowing in reflex as her eyes land on Rachel. She looks so perfectly content, smiling ever so slightly, and it felt so right, so she stands from the swing, drops to her knees in front of Rachel, leans up and kisses her softly.

Her wolf has never sounded so loud, and she barely hears her parents cheering over the sound of it, but none of it matters, because she's kissing Rachel Berry, and Rachel is kissing right back. It's beautiful, so perfect, so fitting and everything in her life just slots into space, just like their lips.

It's soft, and gentle, and they're taking their time. She feels safe and content when Rachel wraps her arms around her neck, all but locking them in their embrace. Quinn lifts her hands up and cups Rachel's cheeks, thumbs gently brushing over defined cheekbones.

Her body feels as if it'll set on fire, and when Rachel whines against her lips at the gentle flick of her tongue against her bottom lip, she almost feels herself combust into flames.

But her wolf is winning, and she has to pull back while she still has some sense of control.

It kills her, and Rachel whines in disappointment, but her arms don't move from around her neck. She doesn't complain about it either.

"Why stop...?" Rachel asks, breathlessly.

"Wolf." She whispers raggedly, trying to control herself, "I'll explain another time. You get the jist though."

Rachel giggles and nudges her nose against Quinn's, "I think I do."

"So..." Quinn whispers after minutes of just holding each other, content to just be in each other's space for just a little bit longer, "Wolf first...human second, right?"

Rachel smiles and blushes before burying her face in Quinn's neck. She barely hears the muffle against her neck, but she smiles when she finally makes it out.

"I'm willing to compromise."

"We have a lot to work out. You know that, right?"

She feels Rachel nod against her neck.

"You're going to have to learn everything about wolves...just so you know for future reference..."

"I may or may not already have a PowerPoint presentation ready and waiting on my laptop."

Quinn smirks and wraps her arms tighter around Rachel, burying her nose in soft brown waves of hair, luxuriating, "And I suppose I'll have to sit through that, huh?"

Rachel chuckles, "If you know what's good for you."


	2. Midnight

They're friends at school, at least, that's what Quinn pegs it down as. When they return to school for their senior year, it's just the same; they say hey when they pass in the hallways and sometimes they're paired up in Glee Club if Mr. Schuester is feeling particularly daring and or suicidal at pairing Brittany up with her ex-boyfriend.

It's just as it was, but of course, there's an undertone that Quinn and Rachel don't allow anyone else in on. It's their secret, and only their secret. Finn is still out of the picture, although the longing puppy eyed stares from across the choir room to Rachel are beginning to miff Quinn off, and her wolf just wants to rip the boy's already non-existent balls off as payback.

Together they agree that nothing would change at school, at least, not for a little while. Rachel wants to make a connection slowly; she wants to nurture it, and Quinn understands that, so she backs off and so does her wolf, that's making it harder and harder to do it on a regular basis.

She even takes a day off school every week, just to relax. Being around Rachel more often at school is exhausting, not because the singer likes to talk a lot or demands solos in Glee Club; no, it's because her wolf is becoming harder to control.

She puts it down to the fact that only her wolf had spent time with Rachel over the remainder of their summer vacation. Rachel bonded with the wolf that Quinn was inside, and Quinn was fine with that, although maybe a little jealous...which was weird, because the wolf was still her...but whatever.

But there was a particularly interesting, okay, terrifying, moment when they were sat together in the auditorium, watching Mercedes and Tina perform some weird mash-up that she wasn't really interested in because fuck, Rachel Berry is sat right next to her, exuding this peaceful smell and it's driving her completely up the wall.

The singer is calm, collected, _happy._ It's everything her wolf wants, what it needs, so it decides to try and make its appearance with the whole Glee Club sat around her. She manages to reign it back, but only when Rachel gets up with the pretence of warming her voice up for the solo she prepared.

It's a close call, a fucking _really _close call; so she decides to take a day off, just to be away from everything; from school, from her parents, from Rachel. It's just her and her wolf; the way it was right at the beginning.

She mediates, with this weird silent Buddhist thing that her father has taught her since her urges first begun. It's weird, being a Christian and practising Buddhist rituals. But it calms her; it helps her a lot more than she thought it would.

So she's sat in the middle of a forest where her family like to hunt, on the rare occasions that they do hunt together, and she's just meditating. Her mind is calm, thankfully the howling of her wolf is only a minor whimper right at the back of her mind. She's not really thinking of anything except for the way the wind blows through her hair, or the way her clothes shift whenever she moves.

It's an exhilarating experience; something that she never thought would work, but _does._

But then her wolf is fighting back, and she bites down on her bottom lip to try and force it back down. It's not like her wolf isn't allowed to come out, because sometimes it's nice just to go on a long run and hunt, but she's trying to control it, and sometimes it's alright, but then it just gets downright hard.

Like right now. Her wolf is all but howling, screaming to the forefront or her mind because she just happens to look at a rabbit that has brown eyes. Surprise surprise, her mind immediately, almost automatically, switches back to the brunette singer that she hadn't told about her little trip.

And she's worrying, because Rachel is probably wondering where she is, and she knows it's horrible to just disappear on Rachel when she needs her the most; but she can't exactly be a shoulder to cry on when all she wants to do is pin the girl down and have her way.

They're friends, although they kissed that one time, but after that, they didn't really speak about it. She's fine with that, well, not really, but she can't really complain, because Rachel doesn't hesitate to talk to her when they're at school anymore, so either way, she won.

But the fact they haven't spoken about that kiss just pure pisses her off, and her wolf is just screaming inside her skull to go back to Lima and just deal with the urge that's close to ripping her apart.

She's sweating, she can feel it on her brow, and she goes to wipe it away, but her arms won't move. They're locked on her lap, and she knows it isn't a good sign. Her wolf is controlling her from the inside; so she isn't surprised when she rises to her feet, of her own accord and starts walking the way she came.

But she's fighting it, screaming at her wolf to just _calm the fuck down_, but it's not listening and she's panicking. She tenses the muscles in her arms, trying to gain some form of control back, but there's nothing. Her feet are literally stomping into the dirt at her feet, just like she would if she was in her wolf form; this isn't good.

_Dad, I can't control my wolf. I can't control my body!_

Over the painful howling of her wolf, she can't hear her father, or if he even bothers to make a reply. But of course her dad does reply, but she can't hear him, although she can tell he's panicking, and only when she manages to force back the howling of her wolf, barely, does she hear what he's saying.

_Your urges have entered a higher stage. Force yourself. Force your body to stop!_

Easier said than fucking done, but she can hear her dad screaming in her head to control herself, and she tries, she really does try, but she can't, her wolf is too strong and her body just aches from the pressure she's putting on it.

_I can't! I can't..._

_You can! I didn't raise my daughter to be a wimp! Control your wolf, I know you can do it, Quinn!_

Her dad is taunting her; he's there, goading her, and before she even realizes it, all she can hear is her dad calling her a wimp, and a weakling, the painful howling of her wolf is all but gone.

Then she realizes her body has stopped, mid step, drenched in sweat. Her head is pounding, the voice of her dad is gone, and her body just aches like she's taken on a rouge pack of wolves.

She collapses.

–

She wakes up in the back of her dad's car; the tiny bumps that the wheels run over jolt her awake. Her body still aches, like a bitch in fact, but she feels infinitely better than she did before she collapsed.

Her mother is in the front seat, fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel. Only when Judy Fabray glances in the rear-view mirror, does the incessant tapping of her fingers stop.

"Oh praise Jesus, you're awake."

Quinn groans, hesitantly raising her arm, still half convinced she doesn't have control of her body. "What happened...?" She asks, although she has a pretty good idea.

"Your wolf decided to show it's full power to you, Quinnie." Judy glances quickly over her shoulder before her eyes return locked to the road, "The meditating helps, somewhat, but eventually the wolf just gives in and shows how strong it truly is."

"Have you gone through this...?"

Judy hesitates, mouth opening and closing a couple times before she sighs, "No." She answers simply, and Quinn's head drops back down to the stiff leather of her dad's Mercedes.

"Then why is it happening to me?"

The older Fabray takes in her daughter's appearance from the rear-view mirror; three quarter shorts, a dirt stricken white tank top, hair up in a sloppy ponytail, tendrils stuck to her forehead and cheeks.

"Your father has a good idea, Quinn. Try not panic, just rest for now."

–

Russell Fabray should have been at work, but instead he was pacing the inner sanctum of his home office, up and down, up and down, memorizing the same strip of carpet as he wore a hole in the damn thing.

He remembers Quinn screaming in his head; sounding so utterly terrified that it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. His baby daughter, out in the wilderness all by herself, crying for her daddy to help.

Over the years, he'd just resigned himself to the fate that his youngest daughter wasn't a little girl anymore; she was an adult, someone who could deal with her own problems, and she didn't need her father there to kiss her cuts and bruises anymore.

It broke his heart, but then again, the same had happened when Frannie hit nineteen and went to college in Boston. He heard from her, sometimes, if she could be bothered. She was a busy woman, between her second pregnancy and her job, it was difficult to juggle her parents too.

Frannie Fabray married a werewolf, whom she met on a night out while partying with college friends. The initial meeting had been disastrous; Lee, her now perfect husband, had been three sheets to the wind and all but projectile vomited over her chest as he spoke to them.

Of course, Frannie had been completely disgusted and warned him to stay away. But when he heard her growl, a low, menacing growl, she fled in a panic.

Eventually, Lee tracked her down, and he flat out asked her if she was a werewolf. She was hesitant, but after he had morphed into his wolf and jumped on her bed, making the thing snap in two under his weight, she told him the truth.

The next day, he bought her a new bed, and took her to lunch. It went off from there, and now, they were expecting their second child, a boy to add to their three year old girl.

Russell hardly ever saw Frannie or Lee or little Abigail; he wasn't needed anymore. Frannie had her hero now, and that certainly wasn't her father.

Quinn was at the age where she still saw Russell as a hero, but he knew it wouldn't last, and when he hears Judy pull up in the driveway, he realizes it's already the beginning of the end. He isn't anyone's hero anymore.

–

Quinn stomps into the house, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she watches her father descend the stairs, "What the hell is going on?" She demands, because seriously, she needs to know what the fuck is going on before she drives herself crazy.

Judy just drops the car keys in the bowl by the door and heads into the kitchen; because this is a conversation that's suppose to be held between a father and their offspring.

Russell pulls his daughter into a strong hug, holding her close to his chest, content to just stay there for a while when Quinn's arms finally wrap around his torso. And then his daughter is sobbing, crying heavily into his chest, and he lets his shirt soak up her tears while he consoles her.

She could have died, and it's only just sunk in for her. So she sobs, and eventually calms with her father's hand in her hair, pulling the ponytail free and threading his fingers through the locks. It has always been calming for her; her mother did it on the nights when she couldn't sleep, and ever since, her father did it too. Rarely, but it happened.

"We need to talk," He flat out tells her as he pulls back, the front of his shirt dotted with moisture, "My office, okay?" It's not really a question, because he's already halfway up the stairs, not even stopping to see if she's following him.

He plants her in the seat at his desk; his chair, the one that even his wife has never sat in. So instantly, Quinn begins to panic.

"Dad..." She takes a long shuddering breath in, "What's happening to me?"

Russell just sighs.

–

Rachel tries not to worry about Quinn, or the fact that the blonde just happens to disappear completely off the map for a day a week. But it's hard, because over the summer, Quinn began to mean something to her. More than Finn, more than her dad's divorce, more than her dreams.

Quinn's wolf sits there for hours on end, just listening to her talk about how she feels about her dad's splitting up, or how she's dealing with having to split her time between her childhood home and a motel in down town Lima because she doesn't want to feel like she's choosing one father over the other.

She talks, and Quinn listens, more than anyone else ever would. She feels safe, content, like she actually belongs; even if it's with a golden wolf that sits there, ears pricked, nose snorting whenever she says something particularly funny.

They gel together, they bond together.

So when Quinn just disappears for a day a week, Rachel finds it hard to reign in her worry about it. She doesn't talk to human Quinn about her wolf; mostly because they only see each other at school, and when they do see each other out of school, Quinn can't talk.

It's difficult, but she deals with it.

She finally has Quinn's number in her phone too, and she just wishes she could send a text off, or just call the girl to see if she's okay. She's so close to doing it too, because she's sat in the middle of a Glee Club meeting and her phone is just there in her lap, begging to be used, and it's not like she's interested in what Mr. Schuester has to say about a 90's rap that he's interested in performing for the kids.

Finn is staring at her from across the room too. She doesn't have to look to know he's doing it, she can just _feel _it. When Quinn is sat in the room, she can usually hear the girl growl; and while it's glaringly obvious that she's jealous and or pissed off, it kind of takes the edge off a little bit. Because having Quinn in the same room just calms her down.

_Are you okay?_

Three words, that's all it is, but she knows Quinn will appreciate it.

Finn trails after her when she's out of the room, but doesn't say a word. It unnerves her, and she clutches her bag closer to her as she walks, because having a lumbering oaf stomping after you just freaks some people out.

She manages to make it to her car before Finn opens his mouth, and she instantly regrets not diving head first into her car and driving away.

"Yes, Finn?"

He looks tired, like he's been up all night watching dirty movies or something; which she knows he does because he downright told her while they were making out one time, hoping that it would somehow work her up enough to finally let him grab her boob.

It didn't work. For obvious reasons.

"I know about your dads splitting up, and it totally must suck for you." No shit. She cries herself to sleep every night, regardless of if she's seen Quinn or not, "But I want to be there for you. And...I want us to be together again. I know I can be a jerk, but...you're not always so nice yourself, you know. But, we balance each other out, and that's what you do in a relationship, right? Balance each other out?"

"I'm not always nice?" She dead pans, "Wow, Finn. What a way to get my heart back." She scoffs and rips open the door to her car.

"...Is that yes?" He asks slowly, watching her through the window as she stabs her key into the ignition.

"I'd rather be battered to death with a Tony Award!"

–

Her house really isn't a home anymore. The house that was once full of laughter and jovial antics were only a bittersweet memory that plagued her daily. Her daddy, Leroy, has gone. She doesn't hear his bellowing laughter in the mornings while he makes pancakes, or the butchered duets that he sings along with his husband.

It breaks her heart.

Leroy never comes back to the house; he'd packed up and left days after they'd filed for divorce. She was at the house when it happened. She sat on the bottom step of the stairs and watched as he lugged boxes of his possessions out of the house and into the back of his Lexus. He watched Hiram completely disregard him and continue to read the paper on the living room couch like nothing was happening.

She shrugged away, still so raw inside, when he tried to kiss her cheek goodbye. The hurt that flashed over his face was hard to ignore, but thankfully he understood, and with one last smile at her and a glance at his now ex-husband, he walked straight out the door.

Hiram was trying his hardest to keep both himself and her together, and she truly did try to make an effort, but there were those days when she just wanted to lock herself up in her room and sob for a little while. The perfect family life that she always thought she had was just a fairytale.

Her parents were the one thing that made her believe that true love existed. The way that they would stand close together, hands casually brushing together, just keeping that contact, needing to be close together. Their sort of love was one in a million, and made their only daughter believe that one day, in the future, she would have it to.

She never got it with Finn, and if she really thinks about it, Quinn...

She sighs and glances down at her phone as she collapses onto the living room couch. There's still no reply, and part of her just wants to rush over to the Fabray household and rip Quinn a new one for ignoring her.

"Rach, is that you, baby girl?" Hiram wanders from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish cloth. He looks completely exhausted; those sparkling eyes that usually carried such a fun loving attitude were sucked dry, his skin looks gaunt and the bags under his eyes are so deep and heavy from lack of sleep.

He just looks like a shadow of his former self.

"Expecting daddy...?" She asks softly, glancing over her shoulder at him.

When her dad looks down at the cloth in his hand, Rachel sighs. Of course her dad is hoping her daddy will come back; he may have cheated and broken a vow he promised all those years ago when they finally married, but he still loved the cheating bastard, regardless of what he's done.

"It's okay." Rachel shrugs her shoulders and looks back down to her phone, "It's understandable." Because it is.

Because with Hiram, there's always Leroy and with Leroy, there's always Hiram. They had been a pair all their lives, and no matter how horrible her daddy's cheating was, she knew her dad still loved and cared for him.

"Are you okay?" Hiram wanders back into the kitchen, raising his voice a little so he can still be heard over the sizzle of the frying pan on the stove. It smells like chicken, but not really chicken, because even though Leroy was the biggest vegan in the house, and Hiram adored meat, he was still willing to make a vegan meal to appease his daughter's needs.

She's uncomfortable, she doesn't want to be here, it feels as if the walls are closing in on her and all she can hear is the screams of her parents when Hiram found out that Leroy had been cheating. The sound of a vase slamming up against the wall and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces, the sound of a raised angry voice, and one meek voice trying desperately to calm the former down.

She can't breathe. She needs to get out. She needs to see her wolf.

–

In the haze of midnight, a half crescent moon shining brightly, stars painting the sky in nonsensical dots and patterns, she makes it to the park. It's abandoned, just like usual, because who really comes to a park in the middle of the night? Only her, it's her thing, she's done it ever since everything went to pot at home and she doesn't plan on stopping any time soon.

She just likes sitting on the swings, kicking herself into an almost catatonic rhythm as she stares up at the sky. She often wonders what it would like to just sprout wings and take off; just to fly, uninhabited, free, careless without a worry in the world.

No longer would have to worry about keeping her voice in perfect condition, arguing with Mercedes or Kurt over solos, if her dad was going to have an emotional breakdown or not, if Quinn was avoiding her for some reason, if Mr. Schuester really was trying to ruin her future career, or if her daddy was happy in that tiny motel bedroom, sleeping in a bed that holds no memories and no promise of a stable future.

She would be free, to soar into the heavens, and just _live._

Quinn isn't there. There's no howl of preparation that a wolf is about to leap over a wire fence, or the heavy thuds of paws slapping against the earth. There's nothing. Just the wind, the chirp of crickets and her breathing. It should soothe her. It used to. But now it doesn't, because she's just panicking, because the one person, one thing, she wants to see isn't there.

All she wants to see is that shimmering gold fur, those eyes that could knock anyone into submission, to feel that wet nose digging against her neck as she nuzzles for comfort.

But nothing, and she chokes back a sob.

Because she realizes she's truly alone.

–

Quinn isn't at school the next day either, and honestly, Rachel isn't surprised. After the no show, and no text back, she kind of just resigned herself to the fact that Quinn was sick of her complaining, her constant sobbing, her worries of a future that wasn't sure anymore.

But she asks around nonetheless. Santana has calmed down a lot since she got with Brittany over the summer, so Rachel can talk to her and not have to worry about getting a fist to her nose. But Santana's at a loss too, and so is Brittany who is scribbling something superficial down in Santana's notebook. There's a heart next to it, and Santana smiles at it, so she just decides to leave, because she feels as if she's intruding in on something special that she doesn't belong to.

She doesn't ask anyone else though, because honestly, it's none of her business if Quinn comes to school or not. They're just friends. Okay, they're friends who kissed once, and my god it was a mind blowing kiss, but it was just once, and it wasn't as if they were dating or anything.

So she leaves it and she goes to her classes, acting as if nothing is wrong.

–

She sees her daddy that night, and wishes she hadn't. She knocks on the door of a paint chipped motel room with a half hanging six on it, and waits. It takes a lot longer for Leroy to come to the door than usual, even though she's only seen him a handful of times since the split.

But it's unnerving, so she just walks in.

And regrets it.

Leroy is stood, one leg poised in the air, pant leg at his knee as he pulls it up. It doesn't look like anything out of the ordinary; mostly it looked like he'd been sleeping and was rushing to get changed, but she glances past his shoulder, into the adjacent bathroom, and in the harsh glare of luminescent lights, she sees the reflection of a half naked man hiding behind a shower curtain.

She doesn't cry, or sob, although she wants to.

"You're still seeing him?" She asks, and Leroy looks so devastated. His hands unclasp around his pants, sending them slapping to the floor like a lead weight. He tries to get close to his only daughter, and he trips over the belt of his pants for a second, but she doesn't let him get close because she's backing out of the still open door.

"Rach, honey, it's not what it looks like."

"Don't you love me or dad at all?"

She doesn't wait around for an answer, nor does she want to hear it.

–

Quinn is there, hours later, by the slide. She looks fine, snapping at small flies as they buzz past her snout. She does it to pass the time, and usually it makes Rachel giggle, but the thought of laughing at anything just makes her want to shatter.

The wolf doesn't know she's there, so she just stands and watches, hands stuffed in the pockets of her grey zip up hoodie. She hardly ever sees Quinn with her defences down, and it's quite intriguing. She looks care free, just enjoying herself in the moment, but there's something different this time.

Quinn's jaw is snapping almost incessantly, like she's annoyed, or aggravated, and it set's Rachel's own teeth on edge. Something isn't right; an intensity fills the air and it makes her want to bolt. But her feet remain planted, and before she can even stop herself, she's clearing her throat.

Golden eyes shift to land on Rachel, and slowly Quinn walks toward her. She doesn't carry herself with the same grace she usually does, in fact, if Rachel looks at her back right leg, she's limping, it's minor, but it's there.

"Where have you been?" Rachel asks accusingly, even though she knows she's not going to get an answer. But she just asks, because she can, because she's pissed at everything and she just wants someone to lash out at.

But gold eyes just remain tracked on her, and Quinn's rump hits the floor with a loud thump. She swears she hears a whine escape from the wolf's throat, but she just fobs it off; puts it down to the limp in Quinn's leg. Obviously she had been out hunting and hurt herself or something; it's really none of her business, right?

"I've needed you, and you weren't there." Rachel passes by the stoic wolf and makes a bee line for the swings; she's safe there, she's content there, she's just that little five year old girl that sat on the swings for hours a day just enjoying life.

Quinn doesn't follow. Half of her is surprised, but then again, it's like the other girl isn't even there. Her body is there, she's sat right there, clear as day, fur shining in the moonlight, but her mind isn't. It's fleeting, just like the passing wind, and she's worries.

"I just saw my daddy." She bites down on her inner cheek, "Leroy." Honestly, he doesn't deserve the title of daddy anymore. It just hurts too fucking much. "He was with the man he cheated on my dad with."

It makes her smile, barely, because Quinn moves then. Closer. Closer. Closer until her head is in Rachel's lap, eyes wide and pleading as she looks up. Rachel's hand automatically come to those flattered ears, and brushes her fingers past them. She knows Quinn likes it, she's known since she first did it because that back leg twitches just a tiny bit and her tail swishes with just a little extra pep.

"The last time I saw him he told me he regretted it." She had to look away, because looking at those golden eyes just make her feel so much more raw, so naked, so exposed, and she hates it, even though she feels like she can be with Quinn. But she doesn't feel safe right now, although her wolf is right there, close by, protecting her. "He just keeps _lying _to me."

Quinn backs up slightly, and Rachel's hand moves back in reflex as she watches Quinn's front paws land on her thighs. She's holding herself up so she's eye level, and Rachel melts. They're on the same level, no one is bigger than the other, they both want to be equal.

But she can tell the wolf is in pain. It's small, but it's there, a tiny scowl on Quinn's long face. Her eyes usually sparkle, but now they're just dull, and it's only then, looking down, she realizes Quinn is holding all her collective weight up on her dud leg.

"Quinn, sit back down. You're hurting yourself." But she doesn't, and Rachel can't help but see red. So she does the only thing she can do. She slams her flat palms against Quinn's chest, shoving her back down to the floor. It hurts her arms, because it's like hitting a damn brick wall, but it works.

The wolf is back down on the ground, but she's whimpering, and something inside Rachel shatters.

"I..." She drops down from the swing and onto her knees, cupping the wolf's face in shaking hands, "I didn't do it because I didn't like it. I did it because you're in pain." The wolf lets out a tiny whine, and Rachel feels tears prick the corner of her eyes, because everything just hurts now, "Let me see...?"

Golden eyes search Rachel's face, until eventually, she sits back and kicks out her back leg slightly. The fur has been frayed away slightly, it's bitten down and feels almost like straw to the touch. The usual pale skin beneath it is an angry red, sore and aching. She touches it, barely; her fingertips just coast past the skin, but it's enough to make the wolf shoot back in agony.

"I'm so sorry," The singer offers in recompense, "What happened to you?"

But the wolf just shakes it's head from side to side, then drops down and licks the aching wound. There's no blood, no puncture wounds from the sign of a fight, but Quinn licks it anyway, almost as if she's trying to soothe it.

Rachel brushes her hand through the fur on Quinn's head, until eventually, Quinn's moving forward again and dropping her head and Rachel's shoulder. It's a closeness that the two need, and they revel in it.

–

She watches Quinn at school the next day. The blonde seems fine, but she can tell something is wrong. Her beaming smile was replaced with a minor upturn of her lips whenever Santana or Brittany say something funny, and her eyes don't flash with that same intensity that they held before.

It's worrying, but she doesn't mention it, because after all, they're only friends, and all they do at school is say hello to each other.

She regrets making the decision to take it slow, because now she feels as if she's just being left behind, and it kills her. She already feels as if she's two steps behind everyone else around her, but she never did with Quinn; she always felt as if they were both standing side by side, walking in tandem, taking each step together.

Now she was miles behind, screaming out for Quinn to just slow down.

–

Unfortunately, they're not working together in Glee. In fact, they're well across on opposite sides of the room. Quinn is working with Mike, and they're talking animatedly. Then Mike pulls out his DS and everything just gets confusing because Quinn looks _so damn interested_.

She's working with Kurt. It's like putting sand paper together, and they're hardly talking because he's too busy texting Blaine on his phone to come up with ideas for a duet to sing. They work well, when they sing together, they always have, even though that animosity still sits there between them, ever brewing and every rising whenever she wins a solo over him.

But they _work._

"Can we please work on song ideas, please? I would like to start this century."

She sounds so short, and she can't help it, but it makes Kurt stare at her, then put his phone away. She's sounds like a grade A bitch, but honestly, she could care less.

–

Quinn limps when she walks to her car, and that's when the final straw is all but ripped from Rachel's grasp. She's worried, and Quinn hasn't even said hello to her all day even though they've been in the same damn room a few times and passed in the halls half a dozen.

It irritates her, it enrages her; because the human connection between them is all but gone and the wolf connection is slowly dwindling into nothingness. It needs to rectified, and now.

She stops the blonde at her car, when she's halfway leaning into her car to actually get into it. When she calls out Quinn's name, it kind of looks like she's going to keep making the transition into the car, but eventually she pulls back, and drops her forearms to the roof of her car.

"What's up?" She sounds so fucking _calm._

"Why are you limping?" Rachel quickly glances around herself, "Your wolf was limping too. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," But the smile is so obviously forced, and false, and it just screams fake. "Just hurt my leg a little when I was out hunting. No biggie."

Quinn Fabray could do anything the hell she wanted, but lying, was not one of them.

–

The calls from her daddy – Leroy – are becoming irritating. He calls every ten minutes, and every time, she lets it go to voice mail. She doesn't want to talk to him, nor does she want to hear his lies anymore.

He told her more than once that he regretted it, that he would never do it again, that he loved his husband and her with every fibre of his being. She believed him at the time, but now, sitting at the desk in her room, staring at the display of her phone as it flashes 'Leroy' not 'daddy' anymore, because he doesn't deserve that privilege, she wouldn't be able to believe him even if he took a lie detector test.

Leroy Berry ruined his chances, that much was for certain.

"Can you please answer the phone?"

The voice is so defeated behind her, but still so caring.

"I don't want to." She returns to her laptop, logging into MySpace because it's been months since she uploaded a new video, "I just can't."

"And why not?"

And she just breaks down, because she has to lie, because the thought of seeing her dad just collapse with grief over the fact that Leroy was still fucking that bastard from work, was just too much to bare.

–

She hasn't stopped crying since leaving the house, and she's still crying when she plonks herself down on the swing. Quinn is there, looking a bit better; meaning she isn't limping as much anymore. But the wolf looks concerned, and she has every right to be because the brunette before her can't even breathe as she chokes out sobs.

"Why does it have to happen to me?" She cries, "Is it my fault?"

So she tells the whole story to a wolf that sits there, calmly, licking her hand softly in a gesture that's so damn comforting it breaks her heart.

She doesn't want to leave, but she has to, because it's almost four am, and she needs at least some sleep if she's going to make it into school tomorrow.

–

Quinn isn't there at school the next day, which is understandable, because the girl is probably exhausted from staying up so late with her. She's flagging as it is, and she barely makes it, bleary eyed through the school day.

Finn just makes her day harder, all but constantly begging her to take him back. She just decides to ignore him, and it seems to do the trick, because during fourth period, he backs off and doesn't speak to her for the rest of the day.

She takes a nap in the nurses office during lunch, which she's never done before, but Noah offers the choice to her, because he noticed she was dragging her feet down the halls to her next class.

He's caring, and he sounds genuinely worried as he asks her what's wrong. The Jewish community is tight, he says, and he's always going to look out for a fellow Jew. So he escorts her to the nurse's office and sits with her until she falls asleep, which is all within the space of ten minutes.

–

Hiram is on the phone when she gets home. He's pacing the living room, staring at the ground as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line, and she's only just walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge when she hears her dad disconnect from the call and lunge for his car keys.

"Where are you going?" She asks as he rips on his jacket.

"Work." The hospital, he's a doctor, and a damn fine one at that. "There's been an animal attack of some kind."

Rachel instantly panics. It can't be.

"Who was attacked?"

Hiram shrugs his shoulders, "Someone that your father works with."

And then she just knows.

–

Quinn isn't at the park, nor did Rachel expect her to be. So she rips her phone from her jacket pocket and dials her number instead.

It takes a few second, but eventually a groggy Quinn is on the other side, "Hello?"

"Come to the park." And she disconnects, because she honestly can't deal with any questions right now. She's too fucking enraged and worried she'll say something she'll regret.

By the time Quinn arrives, she's calmed down, slightly, but she's calmer than she was before. And she's not in wolf form, so in a way, it kind of just solidifies her suspicions. The blonde knows why she was called to the park on a night when they weren't suppose to meet, and the look of resignation in her eyes is proof of that.

"You attacked the man Leroy cheated on my dad with." It's not a question, it's an accusation, and she just barks out a laugh when Quinn looks away.

"How could you do that, Quinn?" She screams, clenched fists shaking at her sides, "Did I once tell you that I wanted you to _hurt _him?"

"He deserved it." Quinn mumbles, still looking away because she can't bare to look at the look of Rachel's disappointment in her eyes, "He destroyed your family. Thanks to him you cry every night and for once I realized I could do something about it."

"No, Quinn."

Hazel eyes slide to Rachel's warily, "What?"

"Leroy destroyed my family. Not him." She scoffs out and laugh and rubs her palms across her face, "Oh God, Quinn, what have you done?"

"I was just trying to protect you."

And she was. It was killing her seeing Rachel cry every damn night, and with her wolf just crying out for revenge, she had to give in. So she went to that fucking motel and watched that guy leave; that skinny, light haired, blue eyed bastard and tracked him all the way back to his house.

To where his wife was, to where his two children were sleeping serenely in their beds without a care in the world. So when he got out of the car, she lunged at him, ripped at his arms as they flailed, trying to protect his face. She bit down and ripped and it felt so heavenly good so she kept doing it, and doing it, and doing it, until eventually she heard the tell-tale signs of footsteps from within the house.

So she fled, and she licked the blood from her chops as she watched from behind some bushes as the cheating bastard's poor wife emerged from the house and just screamed.

"How bad was it?" Rachel's back is to her now, and she contemplates lying, because after all, the singer can't see her eyes. But she can't, because after everything Rachel has been through, she doesn't need another lie stacked upon an already teetering tower.

"He bled out, a lot." She swallows in reflex; she feels sick but her wolf just feels so fucking proud, "I just...he has a wife and two kids and..."

"Let him ruin his own life, Quinn. Don't you dare think that because of what he did he deserved to be attacked." Rachel turns, eyes blazing, "They're going to be looking for you now, Quinn. Are you happy? Are you _satisfied?"_

She clenches her jaw, because she is. She so is, and her wolf wants her to know it.

–

Russell Fabray is watching the local news when he finds out. Rod Remington is oddly quiet as he tells of an animal attack that happened the previous day. It's not until he's heard everything about the man, Michael Hunter's, wounds; an almost mutilated right arm, skin ripped clear off his left and almost bleeding to death, that Rod tells the public, and Russell Fabray, that the police think a rouge wolf was to blame.

"What the hell was she thinking?!" He all but screams as he slams his fists down on his knees, "Why the hell did she attack?!"

"We don't know it's Quinn, Russ. It could be another wolf."

"I know each and every wolf in Lima, Judy." He replies, voice cold, "Not one of them would attack a defenceless human being."

Judy clutches the glass of water in her hands like a lifeline, "Do you think it's because-,"

At her husband's glare, she just feels a sense of doom impact on her. Her daughter, her baby daughter could have killed a man, simply because she _could_.

–

When Quinn gets home from school, her father picks her up, throws her over his shoulder and stomps up the stairs. Before she even knows it, she's locked in her room. Her mother and father out in the hall, murmuring to one another in hushed tones.

"What's going on?" She screams, fist bashing down hard on her door, "Why are you locking me in here?"

"You almost killed a man, Quinn!" Russell shouts from behind the door, and Quinn slumps in defeat, "I thought you had taken control of your wolf, but it seems you haven't. You're on lock down in your room until you sort yourself out."

"It wasn't because of my wolf, dad!"

"Don't you _dare_ lie to me! _You _are the disappointment here!"

She sobs and collapses to the floor, back to her bed, knees up, arms wrapped clean around them in comfort. She just wanted to help.

–

Rachel goes to see Leroy, because, in a way, she blames herself for Michael Hunter's attack. She was the one that put the thought indirectly through Quinn's head, and it makes her restless, so she pulls on some flats and heads to the motel.

Leroy is there, looking visibly shaken, but he smiles when he sees his daughter on the other side of the door.

He sits on the bed, freshly made, it doesn't look like it's been slept in, and she stands in front of him. She doesn't deserve to be comfortable, not now.

"I take it you heard...?" Leroy asks quietly and Rachel just nods because her voice doesn't seem to want to work all of a sudden, "Karma has a way of coming back to haunt you, doesn't it?"

He chuckles, and it dies it before it's even begun, and he's sobbing, and so is she, because her daddy is _destroyed, _just like the rest of them.

–

Judy comes into her room from time to time, just to ask if she wants anything; food, drinks, magazines, movies. She asks for the same thing, to be let go, but it's the one thing her mother can't do.

Her father is at work, so she has to try and beg her mother, but it doesn't work, it never works. She's so close to giving up when Judy walks in, doesn't even look at her, places a steaming bowl of soup down on the bedside table, along with a bottle of water and asks if she wants anything else. She asks to be let go, but Judy just walks out and locks the door behind her.

The look of disappointment just shatters her.

–

Rachel was in the shower when her phone rang. She half expected it to be Leroy, so she just lets the call die out. But then it becomes incessant, and she's halfway through towel drying her hair when she just gives up and picks up her phone that's laying face down on her bed.

Quinn's name flashes across the screen, blinking, almost like Morse Code, a silent declaration for forgiveness. An invitation to talk.

She turns her phone off.

–

Quinn hasn't gone to school in two weeks; people ask questions, especially each and every member of the Glee Club. They even turn to Rachel and ask for information, but she just shrugs and shakes her head.

She knows nothing, why should she?

–

A week later, Michael Hunter is released from hospital and allowed to return home. Rachel's cell remains turned off, indefinitely, because when she turned it on a few days ago she was flooded with eighty-two texts, sixty-eight missed calls and just as many voice mails.

She goes to the Hunter household, worrying herself into an early grave because for some reason she thinks the man's dried blood is going to still cake the driveway. There is none, it's clean, water blasted clean in fact, but she still can't help the wave of sickness that rushes through her.

Her hand is clenched and poised to knock, ready to spew out words of forgiveness, when she just stops and runs away. She can't do it. She can't see his scars. She can't see what Quinn did to that man.

She's halfway down the street when she stops and throws up in a rose bush.

–

Quinn is out of her room. Russell is glued to her side at all times. She's still not allowed to leave the house, and she's beginning to go a little crazy because of it. She tells him, over and over again that she did it because Rachel was upset; that the man needed to be taught a lesson, but Russell has none of it and blanks his daughter.

Until one day, four am in the morning, he's tearing into her room and demanding she gets up.

Bleary eyed, still half asleep, she does as he says, and before she knows it, she's in the back of his Mercedes, on the road out of Lima. She doesn't ask any questions, because she knows he won't answer them; so she's quiet and sedate.

They pull up in the forest where they hunt, and for a brief, happy second she thinks they're going to hunt; that everything will go back to normal.

But Russell is ripping himself free from the car and calling her to follow him. She's glad she isn't being manhandled, and trusted enough to not bolt in the opposite direction, so she follows his lead and follows him into the woods.

Eventually, they make a clearing, and Russell is stripping his shirt off.

"Dad...?"

He turns and faces her, "I need to be sure." He drops his shirt to the floor and cracks his neck in preparation, "So fight me."

They fought once before, and lost, miserably, with only a bum leg as proof of her loss. He'd gone easy on her then, because he never really wanted to hurt his own daughter, but the way he's looking at her now, just proves to her that he isn't fucking around anymore.

He needs to make sure.

"Dad..."

"Your wolf should be twice as strong as mine. Prove me to me that I'm right. Prove to me that my daughter is an Alpha."

Her bones begin to crack before she even has time to stop it.

–

The reason why her wolf is strong, is because she's an Alpha. She always believed, when she was growing up, that her dad was the Alpha, the leader, the stronghold that kept their family together.

She was proven wrong when her father sat her down, sat her down in _his _chair and told her that he never has, and never will be, an Alpha. He told her, clear as day, that the only reason why her wolf is so strong, so feral, so hard to control, is the fact that she was an Alpha.

The leader of the pack.

The urges, along with the ferocity of Alpha blood, made it ten times as hard to control her wolf. At first she thought she was dying, that her wolf was just taking over her body, and in a way, it still was, but she'd managed to sustain it, to hold it within her, caged, controlled.

But now, as she lunges at her father's throat, it wasn't caged anymore. Her father, three times the size of her, lunged right back and ripped at her front leg, trying to pin her down. It was ferocious, and deadly, and she felt like she would die because her father wasn't going to go easy on her.

So she snapped at him, slammed her body into his and pushed him to the ground. Her jaw was clenched onto his throat; she could feel the fur under her tongue, feel the tiny droplets of blood that threatened to flow free.

But she stops, slowly lets go of her dad's throat and backs off.

A silver wolf, three times the size of her golden wolf, staggers to it's feet.

And bows in defeat.

–

She's back at school a week later, after the bruises from the fight with her dad finally disappear.

Her wolf, her _Alpha_ wolf, is the leader of the family. But when she's a human, her father is still the leader of their family. That will never change, nor does Quinn want it to. His wolf retreated and bowed in defeat, the clean cut action that proves to another wolf that they're better, more worthy, stronger.

She's still in shock that she's actually an Alpha, and that it was proved. It's a huge deal, someone like her, an Alpha? Her dad seemed more like the type, but her? It's a huge shock to the system, and even a week after the fact, her mind is still reeling from it.

Rachel is in the choir room, sat on the risers, eyes scanning her notebook when Quinn walks in. They haven't spoken or seen each other in weeks, and just seeing the brunette makes her heart ache so perfectly because my God, she'd forgotten how beautiful she was.

"Hey," She offers gently, still standing by the door, waiting to be offered the chance to enter. She wasn't going to take anything by chance. She was an Alpha, but not an asshole. She knows Rachel is still hurt, still wounded by her betrayal; so she lets the brunette call the shots.

"Hi." The singer offers shortly, looking up and shutting her notebook, "Where have you been?"

"I was uh..." She points her thumb over her shoulder at the door, and Rachel nods. So she shuts the door, "Locked in my room for a few weeks, because of the attack."

"Your parents realized it was you, then?"

Quinn nods, throat dry.

"Why were you locked in your room?"

"They thought my wolf couldn't be controlled." She hears Rachel scoff, but she doesn't take it to heart, because it's the truth, "I've been having trouble with it for about a month and a half now. At first I thought it was because of the urges I told you about, but...I found out it was because of something else."

Rachel's leaning forward, because she's intrigued, and she's worrying, because is Quinn sick or something? She doesn't know what to think, and the way the blonde is shuffling from foot to foot, hand clenching and unclenching around the strap of her bag, makes her believe something is wrong.

"Something else?" She prompts, when the blonde doesn't seem to want to continue.

"You know what an Alpha is, right?"

"Highest rank within an animal society, right?"

"In a nutshell." She's walking forward, hesitantly, and Rachel doesn't seem to mind, so she doesn't stop until she's at the bottom riser, "My dad proved to me that I was an Alpha, and my wolf was assuring it's dominance by making it harder to control."

"But your a girl."

Quinn chuckles gently, "Believe it or not, in werewolves, it doesn't really matter whether an Alpha is a male or female."

"Oh..." Rachel packs away her notebook, and Quinn watches, hazel eyes watching each and every move; the way the brunette's muscles flex in her arms, the way her fingers twitch when they pull the zipper on her bag.

"That's the only reason why I attacked that man so violently. My wolf, it took over me, and I had no way of controlling it."

The singer stands, shouldering her bag, "I'll admit, it makes sense, but it still doesn't change the fact that you did it."

She wants to shout, to tell Rachel to try and control this primal fucking thing inside her, but she doesn't; she bites down on her bottom lip and watches as Rachel descends towards her.

"That man is scarred for life. Leroy is hurt, he's still hurting. My dad feels twice as worse because now he knows that Michael is the one that played a part in ending his marriage. I'm hurting, so much, because indirectly I put the thought in your head that I wanted him hurt."

"Please don't blame yourself," She begs, cupping Rachel's face in her hands. The skin of her hands is rough, and she knows Rachel feels it from the way she flinches, but when the singer's hands raise up and clasp onto hers at her cheeks, something just clicks. "It's not your fault. It's my damn wolf."

"Don't just blame this on your wolf, Quinn." She whispers softly, pressing a soft kiss to Quinn's palm, "You're to blame too."

The bell shrills throughout the choir room, and Rachel steps back.

"I know."

–

Russell lets her go out on a night again, but only when he's confident that Quinn can control her wolf. It's hard, and it takes a lot of training and meditation, and pure hunting to calm and control it. But she does it.

And when Russell smiles at her, kisses her on the forehead and tells her he's _proud _of her; it's worth it.

She texts Rachel two hours before midnight and asks if she wants to meet at the park, just to try and get a sense of normality back into their routine. To go back to how it was before the attack.

She gets a text back twenty minutes later.

_It's better I don't._

–

She tries again two days later, and this time, she begs.

_Quinn...maybe another time, okay?_

–

They talk at school, of course they do, they're friends. Each and every day they get closer, and she realizes that the only reason why Rachel doesn't want to meet her at the park is because of one reason and one reason alone.

"Why won't you meet me anymore?" She asks softly when she finds Rachel in the auditorium, eating her lunch, sat at the piano.

"Honestly?" Rachel asks, only after swallowing part of her sandwich, "I'm terrified."

Rachel is terrified of the wolf that she once sought comfort in.

And it kills Quinn.

–

"You're floundering," Russell comments as he walks the living room after work, hands already working at the constricting tie at his neck, "I could hear your thoughts three streets away."

Quinn sighs and continues to flick through the channels. She eventually stops on a home shopping channel because suddenly mops are fascinating.

"Rachel is scared of your wolf?" Quinn nods, "Because she knows your an Alpha?"

"It's not that." She shuffles in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable on the $2000 dollar suite, "I think she still sees me as the wolf that ripped Michael Hunter a new one."

Russell sits down beside her, wraps his arm around her shoulder and kisses her temple, "Then re-introduce her to the new and improved wolf."

–

Rachel finds out from Leroy that Michael's medical bills are through the roof. His insurance doesn't cover animal attacks. Leroy is distraught, Rachel's angry, so she texts Quinn and asks her if she's happy, sarcastically of course, because she has no one else to let all that anger out on.

_How much?_

Rachel texts back, _$15,000._

She doesn't hear from Quinn again.

–

Leroy calls her the next morning, excited, almost jubilant because someone donated $15,000 dollars to the Hunter's as charity to pay for Michael's medical bills. Rachel asks if they know who paid, but Leroy says it was from an anonymous donor.

Rachel texts Quinn, _thank you._

Quinn texts back seconds later.

_Anything to make you proud of me again._

–

Quinn is leaving the locker room after gym class when she finds Rachel waiting for her. It's a shock to say the least, because it's been two days since they last text one another.

But Rachel looks happy and a little shy, "Hey."

"Hey."

"Where did you get $15,000 from...?"

Quinn shrugs her shoulders, "College fund. My mom and dad have been putting bits away since when I first born so..."

"How much do you have left?"

"Around $2000."

Rachel nods, suddenly solemn, "What about college?"

"I'll find a way to New York."

And the singer beams, because even though they haven't talked about it, Quinn will follow her to New York, regardless of what happens.

–

_**Meet me at the park.**_

_Why?_

_**I want you to meet my wolf again. **_

_Quinn...don't._

_**I just...give it a chance, okay? It's new, and improved. I'm calmer, I can control it fully now. I've been training everyday for you. **_

_Quinn._

_**Please, Rach. Please?**_

_And if I say no?_

_**You'll find an Alpha wolf clambering through your bedroom window a little past midnight.**_

_And if I lock my window?_

_**I'll whine until you open it.**_

_You're a pain._

_**I don't mean to be. **_

_But you are._

_**Then I apologize, but I won't stop asking until you say yes.**_

_Sometime soon, maybe._

_**I'll hold you to that. Goodnight, Rachel xxx**_

_Goodnight._

–

_**Meet me at the park?**_

_It's been one day._

_**And my wolf wants to see you.**_

_So it can attack me?_

_I didn't mean that, I apologize. A reflex._

_**I understand. Another time then. Goodnight, Rachel xxx**_

_Goodnight._

–

_**Meet me at the park?**_

_You won't give up will you?_

_**Not until you say yes.**_

_Not tonight._

_**Okay, goodnight, Rachel xxx**_

_Goodnight, Quinn._

–

_**Meet me at the park?**_

_I told you this at school, Quinn, only four hours ago, that it's a no._

_**That was human, Quinn. You're talking to wolf Quinn, now.**_

_Since when did wolves grow thumbs?_

_**Four hours ago. Please?**_

_Another time, okay? It's still too raw._

_**Okay. Goodnight, Rachel. Xxx**_

–

Quinn continues to ask her at school, when they're alone, when they're in Glee Club surrounded by friends. Even in the middle of a group number when they were singing a particularly touching ballad because Mr. Schuester realized he was really going to become a father thanks to Emma Pillsbury.

She was incessant, but Rachel found it hard to be annoyed by it. Honestly, it was endearing, and touching, and sweet, because Quinn had this look like a lost puppy whenever she asked, and she realized it was just getting too damn hard to say no anymore.

So when she gets a text, an hour after saying goodbye to Quinn in the parking lot, does she really think hard.

_**Meet me at the park?**_

It's the same question. The same question that haunts her day and night because it's the only thing Quinn says to her anymore. So she sits there, and thinks about it, the pad of her thumb brushing over the keys of her keypad.

_Why?_

She knows why, but she just likes hearing it.

_**My wolf misses you. It misses you talking, it misses you swinging on that damn swing, it misses you giggling whenever it snorts. I miss sitting there and letting my wolf revel in how it feels for you.**_

Her heart swoons, and tears prick her eyes, because my God, Quinn could be a fucking poet.

_Okay._

_**Okay?**_

_Okay._

_**Midnight then.**_

_Midnight._


	3. Dawn

She hunts before she sees Rachel. She has to. When she had received the text back from Rachel telling her that they could finally meet, she bounced across her bedroom like a school girl, her wolf however, howled until its throat was sore.

It wasn't a good sign, and she knew it. Having such a long gap between seeing Rachel both as a human and as a wolf, didn't bode well. Her wolf wanted the closeness again, to smell Rachel, to see Rachel, to touch Rachel.

The urge was coming back full force, and it didn't help the fact that she was an Alpha now. Her Alpha dominated her subconscious; it made her want to do unexplainable things to Rachel, whether she liked it or not, and she just wasn't willing to take that risk.

So she hunts, and she hunts, and she hunts; and it's a good few hours before she finally sits her rump down and just relaxes. The wolf inside her is sated, for now, so hopefully it's a good sign that she can see the brunette that controls her life indirectly without doing something she would regret.

She showers, a long cold shower, and only gets out when she's completely chilled to the bone, teeth chattering, skin just aching from the cold. She pulls on a pair of shorts and a shirt, from a drawer that she keeps all her disposable clothes in because when she transforms they tend to just rip to shreds anyway.

Russell Fabray is downstairs, in the living room, watching Glenn Beck on the TV when she bounces down the stairs. He looks up to his daughter and just smiles, because for the first time in a pretty long while, she's finally smiling like she means it.

They haven't spoken about her Alpha dominance since the fight; since he bowed down in front of his own _daughter_ and conceded that she was the stronger wolf. It was still something that he was trying to get over, because yes, of course, he's kind of humiliated, what father or man wouldn't? A man in his early fifties, a wolf that's just as strong and proud as it was the first time it showed itself, is defeated by an almost eighteen year old girl that's was born with the privilege of an Alpha.

He didn't believe it, when the thought first passed through his mind; because Quinn is still only a child, and in his eyes, he'll always be that little girl that he used to take to baseball games and hold in his arms as she slept. She was still that girl. But now, as he watches her bounce into the kitchen, all but demolish a cupcake that Judy had baked earlier on in the day, he can see that glint in her eye; that hidden power that he's never seen before.

His daughter is stronger than him, faster than him, that much was for certain. She was the leader of their pack; the one that dealt with the issues in their hierarchy. It's a shock to the system, and half of him doesn't want to believe it; his wolf half, because it's still licking its wounds after being defeated. But he's proud; damn proud to have an Alpha in his family, in the whole of Lima, and it's his daughter no less.

"We have visitors tomorrow." He states simply, muting the TV, "They'll be here when you get home from school."

"Who is it?" Quinn asks, mumbling around the destroyed remnants of her second cupcake.

"Alfred Noble and his wife."

Alfred Noble, an eighty year old octogenarian that keyed himself as the leader of the Lima wolves. No one complained, of course, because Alfred was a trusted and noble man, just like his name would suggest, and at the age of eighty, his wolf was _still _one of the strongest in the town.

His wife, wasn't a werewolf.

So when Quinn hears the name, she walks out of the kitchen, third cupcake in her hand, "Why are they coming here? Is something the matter?"

"Oh no..." Russell waves his hand over his shoulder, "They just want to see my daughter, an Alpha." He sounds so proud, and she smiles shyly at the tone in his voice. "And of course, Cybil wants to talk to you about your urges."

Talking to a seventy-seven year old woman about urges? When she wasn't a werewolf?

No. Thank. You.

"Uh, do I have to?" Russell frowns, "I mean, I have nothing against them both it's just..." She shrugs her shoulders and starts dipping the tip of her index finger in the red frosting of her cupcake, "Why does Cybil have to talk to me about urges? I thought I'd learnt everything from you."

"Well you have," Russell stands from the couch and adjusts the waistband of his striped blue pajama pants, "But Cybil isn't a werewolf, Quinn. She can give you insight into how to deal with urges around someone who isn't a wolf, or transcends from werewolf blood."

"Oh." She takes a huge bite of her cupcake, massacring three quarters of it in her mouth before stuffing the rest in, "Okay then, I guess."

She watches her father cringe, and she fights back a snort, "Sorry."

Crumbs fly from her mouth and Russell just rolls his eyes, "You might be a wolf, but you're not a pig." He circles the couch and dots a kiss to her forehead, "No staying out too late. I don't mind on the weekends, but school nights? No."

She nods, "Sure thing dad." Although she knows full well she probably won't get back into the house going on five or six am. Even then, she won't sleep, she'll just shower, put on a fresh set of clothes and be out the door an hour later for school. She's done it before, plenty of times; in fact, it's like her sleep cycle doesn't exist since seeing Rachel Berry on that swing in an abandoned park past midnight.

She isn't shocked when she realizes she doesn't care though.

So she watches her father depart upstairs to join his wife in bed, and she leaves it a little while until she hears the soft click of his bedroom door. Glancing at the clock, it's just past eleven, and with a nervous smile, she leaves the house.

–

She must have gotten faster or something, with realizing she's an Alpha, because she gets to the park twenty minutes before midnight. The run was fast, exhilarating, the wind brushed through her fur like it never had before, her eyes poised to each passing obstacle as she leaped over them like they were nothing.

She's half tempted just to transform back into a human just to gloat and say, "Fuck yeah." but she just sits in the line of trees opposite the swing, out of the way, in the shadows, just waiting.

There's a hunt going on. Still going on. For the wolf that attacked Michael Hunter outside his house. It'd been a month since his attack, but the police chief flat out refused to give up until the 'menace' was caught and dealt with.

The Fabray's had been eating dinner together, the TV playing quietly in the background when Quinn had heard it. Rod Remington and his half drunk, cheap as plastic co-presenter sitting beside him, face morbid.

"In other news, the Lima Police Department are still in the midst of a search for the rouge wolf that attacked Michael Hunter, a charity worker for the West Ohio Food Bank, one month ago. Residents around the area of the attack are being told to stay indoors, in case of another attack. No sightings have been reported. If anyone has any information-,"

Judy had risen from her seat and switched off the TV before looking apprehensively back at her husband and daughter.

Quinn just toyed with the green beans on her plate, Russell just sipped at his water.

The attack on Michael Hunter was a distant memory; one they were trying to completely forget about. Quinn had been going through a tough time, and because of her urges to protect Rachel and her family, she had lashed out. That's what they agreed upon, and they agreed not to speak about it.

But it didn't stop the search parties every other night. It was small groups of people, around three or so to a group, heavy duty flash lights in hand and one gun to the group leader. Quinn had seen them one time; she had just come back from a long run out of a town, just trying to wear herself out after another day of no text or call from Rachel.

They were calm as they scoped out undergrowth, bushes; anything that a wolf could make its home in. And she saw the gun, a hunting rifle, complete with scope, that scared the living fuck out of her. Her wolf had seen red and almost lashed out, but just as her front paw went to touch the ground to run, she managed to stop herself.

She slunk off into the shadows instead, and decided that late night runs were a thing of the past while the hunting groups were out.

Her wolf doesn't want to hide; its made that completely clear. It wants to be proud, wants to show it's dominance within the society. But it can't, and for some reason, Quinn can feel the resentment it holds toward her human side. Two sides of her, two sides of her that make a whole, are warring simply because they see themselves going down two different roads.

It's infuriating and she doesn't know how to deal with it. She wants to blame it on the fact she's an Alpha, but honestly, it's just because as a human or a wolf, she's an arrogant bitch. No use denying it, no use trying to sugar coat it. She's arrogant. She gets it from her dad. Even her damn mother tells her that.

Her wolf huffs, almost by itself when she tells it to calm down; it wants to move, it wants to sit by the slide and snap at small flies, it wants to rush down the street and meet Rachel half way.

Half way? She sniffs, long and hard, and there...mildly, just faintly, she can smell it. That smell that makes her heart palpitate in her chest, the smell that makes her want to do somersaults in the air, the smell that makes her feel like she's coming home.

But...then it's disappearing again. She sniffs again; she can hardly smell it anymore. Her wolf wants to howl, but instead it takes off in a run, and Quinn is right there controlling each step because she's worrying something has happened to that brunette singer that makes her feel alive.

She's on the street, on an intersection between two streets, and Rachel is just rounding a corner, away from the park, back towards her house.

Quinn deflates, rump slamming down against the concrete pavement; she left her, high and dry, she just left her. She howls; she howls because her body just fucking aches and if she would, she'd cry, because since Rachel took the first step and agreed to the meeting, she just assumed everything would be okay.

But she was wrong, and Rachel's scent is all but gone, and she's left alone in the middle on an empty street, just mourning and whimpering.

–

She makes it home just as the sun is coming up. Dawn. It should be something magical for her; something that makes her heart want to sing because she spent the entire night with Rachel Berry.

But she's just empty, and that fucking glow over the horizon just mocks her.

Her phone is on the bedside table, one new message. Half of her is tempted not to read the message at all; but she needs to. She needs to read it.

So she does.

And she wishes she hadn't. She just collapses to the bed with exhaustion and falls into a restless sleep.

_I just can't._

–

She's an hour late to school, even though her mom gave her four different wake up calls. She was awake, but the thought of getting out of bed just made her want to fall back to sleep again. The energy is there, but the will isn't.

But she does it, eventually, after crawling on all fours to the shower. She's out the door and arrives at school just in time for her second class. Her Math book is pulled from her bag when she realizes she just missed a period with Rachel.

She mourns the loss, her wolf is just enraged, and she hates it.

–

They don't see each other at all. Not in lessons, not at lunch, not in the auditorium or in the choir room during free periods. There's nothing, and Quinn isn't surprised if Rachel isn't at school at all. The singer probably realized she would be pissed and made as wide a berth as possible between the two.

But then she's there, when Quinn walks in to Glee, sat beside Finn who is just grinning at her like she's the answer to the meaning of life. Rachel glances at her, when she walks in, but then the look is gone, and honestly, it couldn't be more half assed if the singer tried.

So she stomps to her chair, beside Santana and Brittany and clenches her fists. She makes it through the whole of Glee; an hour of just watching Finn put his paws all over _her _woman, and she's so fucking enraged she keeps wanting to dive over the chairs between them and just rip his already minuscule brain out from his nostrils.

Her wolf is contained, that urge is contained, but by the time the meeting is over, she has to go to the nurse's office and have the palms of her hands bandaged.

–

The nurse doesn't ask questions, which is nice; but then again, she looks like she can't be bothered dealing with a minor injury. So she cleans the welts Quinn's fingernails made, but the blonde can see the shock in the nurses eyes when she sees how deep they actually went into the skin.

"It's almost down to the muscle..." The nurse tuts and grabs a roll of bandages, "You need to be a lot more careful next time, Miss Fabray. Do you understand?"

She just nods, because she really can't be bothered being reprimanded by a woman who's medical training probably consists of being able to perform CPR on a dummy. But she sits there, patiently, and watches the nurse bandage her up.

"Try to keep the pressure off your hands for a little while. Give them time to heal." Quinn just rolls her eyes, because she's a wolf, and they tend to heal a lot faster than any human, but whatever, the nurse doesn't need to know that.

She leaves, only just stopping herself from slamming the door of the nurse's office shut when she lands eyes on Rachel, who is stood on the opposite side of the hallway, book clutched in her hand by her side.

Quinn wants to ignore her, to walk away, just like she had last night but instead she says, "What?" She sounds miffed, fuck she is miffed, so she lets it show, and from the way Rachel flinches, she knows she's got that point across.

"Did you receive my text?"

She stared at it while eating breakfast this morning, of course she did, "Yeah."

"I am sorry for that." Rachel frowns slightly, "For bailing on you like that. It wasn't my intention at all." She walks forward, just a step before coming to a stop again, because Quinn is radiating this whole 'stay the fuck away from me' aura, so she abides by it. "I had to stay at home. My dad needs me a lot more now that Leroy has gone."

Oh...she didn't. Her wolf is screaming to the front of her mind, and she just sighs, because she's so disappointed. She looks to her feet, because if she looks at Rachel, all she'll see is a liar.

"You're lying." She growls, eyes still trained to Rachel's Mary Jane's.

"I-I assure you I'm-,"

Quinn's head snaps up so fast her neck actually aches, "Don't lie to me. I've never lied to you, so please don't lie to me."

Rachel bites down on her bottom lip, and she shifts from one foot to the other, and that's when Quinn knows she's given up trying to lie to her.

"I just...couldn't. I was almost there and then I just thought about Michael being attacked and-,"

"I would _never_ attack you!" Her eyes are glowing, and Rachel sees them flicker from hazel to golden, just like the wolf she used to know. Quinn's face is right there, almost nose to nose, and she feels the blonde's breath on her lips as she heaves breaths in and out.

She's scared, my god she's fucking terrified.

"Quinn, you're scaring me."

The blonde backs off, and Rachel takes a deep breath with relief although her body is still tense as she watches Quinn. The girl's body is thrumming with a hidden energy, and it frightens her, because indirectly, she knows what sort of power Quinn holds.

"I didn't mean to," Her throat bobs as she swallows, "I'm sorry, but...it just hurts when you think I would hurt you like that, Rachel."

"You told me you couldn't control your..." She lowers her voice, even though they're alone, "Wolf, and that's why you attacked him. I...give you these urges, correct? What's to say your wolf won't just take over again without your go ahead?"

And she's stumped, because honestly, it's the truth. It's hard enough as it is being this close to Rachel right now, just inches away from one another. She smells so fantastically good, and all she wants to do is pin her up against the wall and take her. Her bandaged hands clench and unclench by her sides.

"I'm more controlled now, Rachel. I already told you that. I train everyday with my dad just so I can be close to you." She steps forward, and Rachel, in reflex, steps back, putting her back to the wall. She doesn't seem to regret the move though, which makes Quinn relax a little, but not by much. "That time...when I kissed you?"

Rachel opens her mouth to say 'yes, I remember, because it made me feel things I thought I'd never feel' but nothing comes out. She flounders, and Quinn smiles, and her hazel eyes look so warm and inviting.

"I so wanted to keep going..." Rachel watches as Quinn's eyes quickly dash to her lips, before locking back on her eyes, "My wolf was crying out for me to keep going, to keep kissing you, to finally take what I'd wanted for so long." She braces her right arm, palm flat against the wall beside Rachel's head, and instinctively, Rachel swallows, because she feels as if she's barred in, and Quinn's lips are _that much _closer.

"Your point...?" Rachel asks, shocked by how breathy her voice is. Quinn smiles softly, leaning closer until her nose bumps against Rachel's, so gently and tenderly, "Quinn..."

"I can smell you, and my wolf is howling so loudly in my head right now because it wants you. It's so primal, and raw and it's _killing_ me..." Then she smiles, "But I'm calm, right?"

Rachel lost track of the conversation at primal. It makes her feel so good, because for once in her life, someone wants her so badly, so intimately, that it drives them wild. She leans forward, because the need is there, so she goes through with it, and her quivering lips brush against Quinn's.

They just brush, so softly together, memorizing the softness of one another's lips, how they part for air, how Rachel gasps when Quinn raises her other arm to lock her against the wall. She's testing the waters, and Quinn knows this, so she allows it and she lets Rachel take the lead. She won't take what she wants. Not until Rachel tells her to take it.

"Meet me at the park."

She shouldn't, she can't, because Quinn is a human right now, and who knows what might happen when she's in wolf form. But the blonde sound so sure, so confident; like she knows that everything is going to be okay, and she's trying to tell Rachel that.

The message gets through, and with one last brush of her lips against Quinn's, she whispers, "Okay."

–

Just like Russell had said, Alfred and Cybil Noble are at the house when she gets home from school. Alfred, a skinny almost frail looking man is sat beside his wife at the dinner table, in the midst of a joke that he's telling Judy. She looks amused, highly amused, but then again, Judy is a good actress when she wants to be.

"Ah, Quinnie!" Judy bolts from her seat and smiles at her daughter, "I was wondering when you'd get home." Quinn finished school an hour ago, and half an hour of that was spent with Rachel, their lips connected, so close to kissing. It took fifteen minutes to stop the heavy pounding of her heart, and another fifteen on the drive home to calm the almost whimpering howl of her wolf.

"Sorry. I had stuff to do at school," And her manners come into play, because she smiles, extends her hand and offers it to Alfred Noble. His grey eyes flicker from Quinn's eyes, right to hand and he frowns, "Oh...uh."

"What happened to your hand, Quinn...?" Judy asked, rounding the table to grab the youngest Fabray's hand, "Did you get into a fight?" It's just a general question, but there's an undertone that's only understood between the two women. Judy asked, 'did you get into a fight?' what was really asked was 'did you attack someone again?'

"No mom, just my urges."

It was. Partly.

Alfred's eyebrows draw together, which isn't hard to do, because it's like two giant caterpillars have taken up shop on his forehead, "Your father told me you're an Alpha."

Quinn diverts her attention to him. He's sat there, content as can be while his wife sits beside him, stirring her tea with a slightly shaking hand, "Yes sir."

"None of this sir business," He gives a flick of his wrist, and then he's standing up, patting his wife so softly on the shoulders as he moves around table, "You're an Alpha. I should be calling you ma'am."

Okay, that's just seriously embarrassing. She shows it, just from the redness her cheeks take, and he chuckles like it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. "But I won't, because that's not 'cool' these days."

But to say the man is 80 years old, he has to be one of the most laid back and energetic people she's ever met. He can't sit down for more than two minutes, and when he _is_ sat down, his hands move around like he's on speed. It makes her laugh, but most importantly, it makes her relax.

She sits and listens to him as he tells her of the tutoring he's going to give her; controlling of the urges, controlling the wolf in human form, keeping control of the wolf while in wolf form. It's all things she's still struggling with, even though she's proud of the progress she's made. And so is her mom, and her dad, so in a way, it's worth it, even if she has to work twice as hard because of it.

"We'll start that this coming Monday." It's Friday, so she has the weekend to prepare her body, because if what Alfred is talking about is the truth, her body, both human and wolf forms, are going to be put through their paces; pushed right to edge, on the boundary of pain to agony.

"Okay." She agrees, because it's not like she can say no, and she doesn't want to say no anyway, because she wants to make Rachel proud of her. To prove to her that she isn't a murderous, uncontrollable beast thanks to the attack.

Alfred leaves, and so does Judy, which is slightly worrying. They go into the backyard, it's not far away, but suddenly she feels very cut off. That relaxation she felt while chatting with Alfred is gone, and the hawk eyes that Cybil is giving her over her tea cup does nothing to subdue the feeling.

"I spoke with your father, and he told me that the one you urge for isn't of werewolf blood."

Quinn just nods, mostly because she doesn't know what to say; how can she be calm as can be around the man dubbed the leader of the wolves of Lima and be wanting to run away with his non-wolf wife? It doesn't make sense.

"As you well know, I'm not a werewolf." Then she smiles, and suddenly that pressure on Quinn's chest is gone, "But that didn't stop me being with one. I had to learn everything; I had to memorize their culture, their history, just so I felt as if I was in the loop. When I first met Alfred, I already felt as if I was two steps behind with him. He always spoke of urges, and how hard it was to deal with the hierarchy within Lima. I never really understood it, and due to that fact, I left him."

"What...you just, left?" What if Rachel left? But wasn't Rachel already gone? On that step, just waiting for another push to make the decision that would break her in two.

"He came after me, and told me something. I thought about it, long and hard, but in the end, I decided to take the path that I chose for myself. The thing is, Quinn, you have to realize that there's always a choice."

"Choice...?" Cybil stands, wearily, she moves a lot slower than Alfred, and Quinn is half tempted just to lend her an arm for support, but by the time she's finally settled on the idea, the old woman is sitting down beside her on the couch, patting down her summer dress as she sits.

"A werewolf can turn a non-werewolf. It's a common fact, but one that's not really talked about."

"Why? Do people frown upon human turned werewolves or something?"

Cybil bobs her head left to right, and frowns in contemplation, "Not necessarily, Quinn. Mostly they don't like the risk that comes with it. A human body is not as strong as a werewolves, so when the transition is made, the body may be unable to cope with such a sudden change."

"You mean...it could kill someone?"

The older woman nods, fluffy white hair bobbing slightly in place, "I won't go into details, but the transformation just tends to rip a human body apart." The older woman shudders, it's only small, but Quinn feels it, "It's such a horrible thought to think about. Alfred offered me to transition from human to werewolf, and I turned him after he told me about the repercussions."

"Why are you telling me this...?" Quinn asks, voice low, almost a whisper. She's terrified of the answer, because she already knows it. She knows what Cybil is going to say, she knows what could possibly be a horrible split decision that she has to make in her future if Rachel decides to stick around.

"She..." Cybil sighs, "She may want to transition, if she so wishes. In the end, the decision is up to her."

"What? So I kill her just because she feels as if she's stuck in the fog?"

"No, Quinn. You abide by her wishes because she's your mate."

–

She doesn't want to go to the park, because the same thought has been driving through her mind since Cybil left. Judy had come in once the married couple had said their goodbyes, and just looked at her daughter, because she knew what Cybil would talk to her about.

But Quinn just shook her head and went up to her room, because she just needed to be alone for a little while. With her thoughts, manic as they are, her wolf is howling in agreement. It wants to make Rachel transition, it wants to make her a wolf, so they can have that closeness that only they would have. It'd be special, and beautiful and it would just be something for _them._

But she knows that Rachel's body wouldn't be able to deal with it. She sees her everyday, and although she's strong mentally, she knows that in a fight she wouldn't be able to hold herself, not like she could. She's the protector, she's the strong one; she's the one that keeps her family safe.

She has the blood of an Alpha. If she transitioned Rachel, the strength in the blood alone could kill her.

It's not something she's willing to chance.

Her father, when he comes home, leaves her alone for the night because he knows that his daughter has a lot to think about. But at a little past eleven at night, he watches her slink out of the house from his bedroom window. His wife is sleeping behind him, and all he can hear is her soft breathing as he watches his youngest daughter walk down the street.

He knows she's going to see Rachel, he knows she's going to be stressed out because of what Cybil said. He prays that his daughter is strong enough to stop herself from lashing out before he goes to sleep.

–

It's cold. It's getting a lot colder now since it's almost November, so she isn't surprised when she enters the park to see Rachel in a pair of sweatpants, thick ones at that, a thick sweater and a hoodie. She looks toasty warm, and she's tempted to just leap into her arms to feel that warmth.

Although she's fucking boiling because her fur is as thick as Finn's skull.

Rachel sees her, at the fence that she's just leaped over. The fence where it all began. They're at a stand off, and they just watch each other. The singer has her hands stuffed in her pockets, and Quinn can smell the pepper spray clutched tightly in her hand. It hurts her, but she knows Rachel just needs that comfort of protection.

She walks toward her, slowly, head bowed, but eyes trained. Rachel doesn't step back, and Quinn huffs in relief as she makes the ten yard space, and just parks her rump. The ground thumps as she sits, and Rachel giggles.

The tension is broken, and Quinn just snorts through her snout, almost saying 'I can't help it if I have a fat ass.'

Rachel is still keeping the ten yard gap between them, but her hands aren't in her pockets anymore. Quinn just feels relief, because in some sort of way, Rachel trusts her enough to not need to clutch that damn spray can in her pocket. She feels like a protector again, and instead of howling, she fucking _yaps _and lols her tongue out of the side of her mouth.

She looks and sounds like a cub, but when Rachel drops to her knees, beams and wraps her arms tightly around her furry neck, she just wishes she could cry, because everything just feels fucking _perfect _again.

–

_**Can we meet?**_

_Tonight...?_

_**Well, no...I was kind of thinking, you could come around?**_

_Oh._

_**Oh? That's a rather non-committal answer coming from you, Rach.**_

_It was just...a surprise. I wasn't expecting to be asked._

_**Well, I'm asking you. Please answer quickly because the ten minutes between replies is starting to freak me out.**_

_I apologize for not being able to get dressed and text at the same time, Quinn Fabray._

_**You're getting dressed...?**_

_Quinn._

_**It's my wolf, blame the wolf.**_

_Always blame the wolf, huh?_

_**...Pretty much. **_

_Hm._

_**Ah alright, it's me, but whatever. Will you come around or not...?**_

_...When?_

_**Five? Mom wants to cook dinner.**_

_I'll be meeting your parents?!_

_**Is...that an issue? I mean, I can tell them to get lost if you want me to?**_

_What? No! I just...wasn't expecting to meet your parents. We're not even...but yes, I accept your offer._

_**Not even what...?**_

_Would you like me to bring anything?_

_**No. Not even what...?**_

_Have to dash, Quinn. I'm meeting Leroy in half an hour and I still need to curl my hair._

_**But! Wait!**_

_**Rachel...?**_

_**Uh. Rach?**_

_**God dammit.**_

–

Leroy is still Leroy, because after everything, he still doesn't deserve the privilege of being called 'daddy' anymore. That name is reserved for a man that cares about having his family together, happy and secure. Leroy is not that man, especially with the fact that he's still seeing a scarred Michael Hunter.

The man is just leaving when Rachel gets there, and to say it's awkward, is a complete understatement. He tries to smile at her when they pass, but all Rachel can see are the bandages wrapped around both arms and his throat. He looks better, he doesn't look massacred, but the fact that a month after the attack, the man was still needing to wear bandages, just makes her shudder.

Every time she'd seen Quinn's teeth, she never assumed them to be sharp or deadly. They were just teeth. But as Michael passes her, smiles awkwardly and walks a wide berth around her to keep from touching her, she just shudders and keeps walking.

Leroy has an apartment now. It's not like he can't afford one, and it's pretty up scale, but Rachel could really care less at how much he's spent on an apartment when the money should really be in a savings account under the name of Leroy and Hiram Berry.

He answers the door, ushers her in, takes her coat, almost as if he's a butler and not her father. It's disturbing, and she can't shake the feeling when she sits in the living room on a second hand couch he told her he'd bought at an auction. It's a disgusting red color, and it just solidifies the fact that Hiram Berry is no longer in his life; because Hiram hates red with a passion.

"So...how is school?" Leroy asks, depositing a cup of coffee in her hand, topped with soya milk. It's the only thing she finds she has in common with Leroy anymore; the fact that they're both Vegan. A man that had brought her up, protected her and raised her, was now just a stranger, and the only attachment she felt was from what they eat and didn't eat?

It's horrible.

"It's fine."

The silence is so awkward Rachel actually squirms in her seat. Leroy's thumbs just fiddle with the rim of his coffee mug, and he just keeps awkwardly smiling whenever she meets his eyes, which isn't very often.

She just wants to leave, but her dad practically orders her to go see Leroy every other day, because even after everything, she's his daughter too.

"How's Michael?" She doesn't mean to sound bitter, but the underlying tone comes through without her even noticing. It just bounces off of Leroy's back, and it actually shocks her so much, her jaw drops when he says;

"Oh he's doing a lot better. He's uhm... leaving his wife to... be with me. Actually, it was the attack that changed his mind. It was almost as if the universe was trying to tell him something that day."

He sounds so chirpy, and so confident, and so happy at the fact that his new lover is moving in with him. But Rachel just wants to vomit, because right then, she realizes Leroy isn't coming back; the divorce is still going to go through, she's still going to live in a broken home.

And thanks to Quinn's wolf, Michael Hunter was pushed further into the picture instead of pushed out.

She puts her coffee down on an expensive oak coffee table that's worth half the price Leroy paid for it and just leaves, because she can't bare to look at his oblivious smile anymore.

–

Quinn has such a huge smile on her face when she opens the door to find Rachel standing there...with a plate of cookies.

"Cookies...? I told you not to bring anything, Rach." But she takes them anyway, pulls the cling film clean off and stuffs one in her mouth, "S'good..."

Rachel smirks, "It's rude to come to dinner and have nothing in hand, Quinn. It's bad manners." She says as she watches Quinn stuff another into her already full mouth, "Something you've obviously never quite grasped."

"Hmpf...?" The blonde asks, barely missing Rachel's face with crumbs of demolished cookie. But she swallows quickly and smiles, "Uhm. Come in, my parents are in the kitchen."

She enters so nervously, like if she puts a foot down on the stupidly expensive wooden flooring she'll crash right through it. She even jumps when Quinn goes to take her coat, and when she sees the flash of hurt in the blonde's eyes, she sighs.

"I just wasn't expecting it. It wasn't because of-,"

"I know." She says, even though she doesn't.

"No you don't understand." She takes the plate from Quinn's hands and puts it down on the table beside the door, "I just flinched because I wasn't expecting you to touch me, not because of your wolf. Please don't think that."

Rachel's holding both her hands, thumbs brushing so gently over the knuckles. The singer sees that some of the knuckles are red, bruised and scabbed, so she brings them to her face and all but inspects them, "What happened...?"

"Training, with my dad." Quinn smiles shyly, "It's not as bad as it looks. I got them this morning, but they'll be gone in a few days."

"You heal fast...?"

"Yup." She sounds so proud, Rachel giggles and brings the hands to her lips, kissing each and every knuckle. Quinn is looking at her as she does it, she can feel those hazel eyes burning into the top of her head, "Healing kisses, huh?"

Rachel smiles as she pulls back, tucking a lock of curled hair behind her ear, "I'll have you know my kisses are exceedingly magical."

"My lips hurt too..."

Rachel's heart stops, "Oh...?" She whispers, but Quinn's already leaning in, and their noses are bumping together in a gentle bump war. Rachel tilts her head and connects her lips with Quinn, just because she needs to, because those lips are so tempting and fuck they _are_ because she's moaning into an open mouth, and getting trapped in because strong arms are wrapping around her waist, tugging her close.

She feels Quinn's tongue flick out against her top lip, a silent invitation, and Rachel does everything in her power to accept it. Their tongues brush together in a quiet harmony, and the crescendo is reached when powerfully, loudly, Quinn moans and has to pull back. Her lips are wet and pouting, and her pupils are completely blown. She's breathing so hard as she rests her forehead against the singer.

"Wolf...?" Rachel whispers, running a hand up to brush Quinn's hair away from her eyes.

"Yeah...it's easier but..."

"You don't need to explain, Quinn."

She smiles, and takes Rachel's hand, "Ready to meet the parents?"

Rachel nods, and she's instantly mortified when she finds a giggling Judy Fabray as she chops carrots and a red in the face Russell Fabray as he tries not to laugh at the sound of the two girls moaning in the hallway.

–

"So, Rachel..." Russell starts. They've all been sat down for ten minutes already, just eating in silence. He's at the head of the table, like always, because even though his daughter is an Alpha, he's still the leader of the family when he's human. Judy is sat to his left, and both Quinn and Rachel sat side by side to his right. "You obviously know all about us?"

Quinn blushes and digs into the home made cottage pie (with vegan mince) on her plate, because she realizes, foolishly, she's told Rachel nothing.

"Oh, uhm..." Rachel wipes the corners of her mouth with her napkin, because she doesn't really want to have mashed potato stuck on her face while she talks to Russell, who isn't half as frighting as she thought he would be, but _still_. "Well, Quinn hasn't told me much. Only that you're both werewolves."

"Quinn Fabray," Judy tuts, "You tell us all about Rachel but deign to tell her about us?"

"Mom..." The youngest Fabray groans, slouching in her seat. Rachel finds it completely adorable, because even though Quinn is a wolf, she's still that girl she's known since middle school.

"Don't you mom me, Quinnie."

_Quinnie._

Rachel snorts, then immediately regrets it because Russell Fabray narrows an eye in her direction, "Uhm." My god, she was Rachel Berry, she never said _uhm._ "I think it's because when I usually see Quinn she's in her wolf form, so..."

"Yeah, totally." Quinn sits back up again, "I'll tell her all about you guys, relax."

"Good, we don't want to left out of the loop, do we, Russell?"

He's still watching Rachel like a hawk, and Quinn knows why he's doing it, so he allows him. He's scoping out the potential, which is highly embarrassing, but as long as Rachel doesn't know that, she's a'okay.

But damn her dad is totally making it obvious and it really isn't cool.

"So," He finally says, moving his eyes back to his untouched plate of food, "I heard about your parents."

Quinn's head snaps to Russell and she growls. She actually _growls_ at her own father, and Rachel is shocked to see that he nods his head ever so slightly. She knows it's because of the Alpha thing, but it's incredible to see it happen right before her.

"My parents are getting a divorce, yes." Rachel states simply, and Quinn turns her head to her.

"You don't need to talk about this if you don't want to."

Judy looks so apologetic, Russell is watching her again, shoveling a large forkful of cottage pie into his mouth, and Quinn is just smiling so softly at her. She feels...accepted and...it's weird because even though the family hasn't done anything particularly welcoming, the fact that they're sat there, watching her, just to see if she's fine with it, makes her feel a part of something special.

"I think it's good to talk about it. It's better than having my hand licked every night."

Judy laughs, Russell bites down hard on his bottom lip and Quinn just dies in her seat.

–

The last thing she remembered before ending up on her back on Quinn Fabray's bed was, "You embarrassed an Alpha in front of her pack, you need to pay."

They're kissing, and it's so fucking glorious, because Quinn's hands are _everywhere_ but nowhere at the same time. She keeps to limits; she doesn't touch anywhere erogenous, only bare skin, like Rachel's hands, especially her fingers, and the skin of Rachel's neck. The touches are fleeting, like they're not really there, but it's enough to have the singer squirming beneath the blonde.

Quinn's up on her knees, propped up on her elbows, keeping her knees well away from a certain area, and keeping her body away from touching Rachel's directly, because just the kissing, the brushing of each other's tongues, the expel of hot hair and the heavenly moans is already killing her.

It hurts, but it hurts _so_ good.

She's a top. In every sense of the word. In relationships, as an Alpha, at school as Queen Bee, she's a top. But now Rachel's flipping her over and she's never been so fucking happy to be a bottom.

Rachel is panting above her, lips pouty and red, and she's struggling for breath, and as she heaves in each gulp of air, it sounds like it's hurting her.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Aphrodisiac. Werewolves tend to give it off when they're..." She clears her throat, but then sits up instead and wraps her arms around Rachel's waist, "Fuck you're so sexy." And she is, with her messy hair, blown pupils and heaving chest, a chest that makes itself seen, barely, whenever it heaves through her blouse.

"Quinn..." It's so bad because she has no second thoughts about ripping off her blouse and letting the blonde have her way, especially with those hazel eyes that have the particular shade of gold in them. "Are you okay...?"

The blonde just growls and starts nipping at Rachel's neck when she's about to ask again, but it's lost on the tip of her tongue, and she dips her head back, mouth open, and all she can say is, "Oh...keep doing that."

Quinn is addicted to the taste of Rachel's skin. Her smell, so heady and musky, is just filling her senses and driving her crazy. But tasting. Oh fuck, tasting it; it's like jumping into a pool of your favorite pudding and just living in it. She wants to live the rest of her life tasting this skin, touching it, making it shudder and quiver.

Rachel is panting above her, and she feels the heaving chest against her breastbone. It's killing her, she wants to take her, and her wolf is howling so fucking loudly, begging for her to do it, and that's when she knows;

"I have to stop." She rips herself back, panting for breath, "I have to stop or I'll just..."

"I-I know." Rachel's neck is dotted red, bite marks adorn ever part of available tan skin, and it makes Quinn feel as if she's owned her. "We both had to stop because...I was finding it hard to-,"

"Stop yourself. I know. Me too." She collapses back against the bed, just taking long and soothing breaths to calm the beating of her heart and the howling of her wolf. They both die down eventually, but only when Rachel lays down beside her, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Michael Hunter left his wife. He's moving in with Leroy." She feels Quinn's head shift above her, but she just keeps her head down, snuggling into Quinn's McKinley hoodie, "I went around there earlier and he was just leaving."

"How did it make you feel...?"

Quinn's hand brushes through her hair, tugging at the loose strands, fingertips digging into her scalp. She feels like falling asleep, because it's so soothing, and even though Quinn has calmed down exponentially, she's still giving off that aphrodisiac.

"It kind of just solidified the fact that he won't be coming back, for me. He's broken our family up, and he's just not willing to try and mend it."

"Do you want him to?"

No one has ever asked her that, not even her dad. They tend to just skirt the issue, and Hiram acts like Leroy never existed. But Rachel knows he still thinks about his soon to be ex-husband, because she hears him crying every night, alone in his bed.

"Yes because my dad is still hurting...but no because...it just wouldn't be the same. It'd be just so awkward and I wouldn't want to live in a house where I'm walking on eggshells all the time."

"So you're willing to accept that he's not coming back?"

Rachel shifts, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at Quinn, who already looks like she's going to fall asleep, "Sorry...is my smell making you sleepy?"

"You're calm, so I'm calm." Quinn shrugs sleepily, "You're going to accept it?"

"I'll answer your question if you answer mine."

Quinn's immediately intrigued, so she asks, "Go on..."

Rachel bites her top lip shyly, before burrowing her head back into the soft curve of Quinn's neck. She feels safe there, content, and she just breathes in the smell of Quinn's perfume as she lays there. It's minutes after that she finally asks, "What are we...?" So quietly.

"...Quinn?" She looks up, and smiles, because Quinn's asleep with a content smile on her face.

–

Russell walks into Quinn's room the next morning, and Rachel's already up because her six am exercise routine cannot be tamed, much like her hair that looks like a family of baby chicks made their nest in there.

But he doesn't seem fazed, and he ushers her out with a flick of his wrist. She pulls herself away slowly from the protection of Quinn's arms and follows Russell out of the door. They don't walk far, only to the end of the hall and into his office. She looks around, but doesn't really take it in, because she's worried.

He sighs, takes her by the shoulders and moves her around his desk, "Sit." She sits herself down in his desk chair like there's an explosive under it, but when nothing goes off, she allows herself to relax a little. "I'm going to be very, _very_ honest with you here, Rachel."

And...that panic is back.

She shuffles in the seat, dying to find some form of comfort as he plants himself on the edge of his desk, looking down at her with shining eyes.

–

They eat breakfast together, which they make together because Rachel is adamant about thanking Judy for an excellent meal the night before. Much to her chagrin, there's no Vegan ingredients, so she makes do, but flat out refuses to crack any eggs.

Or eat for that matter.

Quinn chops her a selection of fresh fruit from the fridge which she eats happily, but just beams when she watches an ecstatic Quinn stuff down pancake after pancake. Judy just hums, "These are fantastic, Rachel. Honestly. You will have to give me the recipe."

"Ah-ha. Berry family recipe, I'm afraid I can't give away my secrets." Then she glances at Quinn, who's leaning across the table to pick another stack from the center plate, "Unless you want a daughter the size of a blimp."

Funnily enough, Quinn stops eating at that, but only to glare before she digs in again.

Russell smiles from behind his Sunday paper, taking small bites of his pancakes from time to time, which are honestly, delicious. He finds it amusing though, that Judy politely asked for the recipe when she can blatantly smell the 'secret' ingredient, but he doesn't mention anything.

"Oh she won't get fat. An Alpha usually eats twice as much than a normal wolf, it's common practice."

"And why is that?" Rachel asks, honestly interested.

"An Alpha is suppose to be strong, and to be strong they use a lot of energy. Quinn burns energy twice as fast than most wolves, hence why she eats so much, and why she falls asleep in class."

"Oh my god, mom. It was one time!"

"Quinn, manners." Judy tuts, obviously talking about the pancake remnants that she can see in her daughters mouth, but it's mostly to do with the fact that she chastised God in her house. "We have company."

"She's seen me eat, mom."

"Like the way you demolished those cookies yesterday?" Rachel asks with a giggle.

"Cookies?" Russell's eyes pop up over his newspaper, "I saw no cookies."

All three heads turn to Quinn who swallows her pancakes with a meek look on her face, "I uhm..." Then her eyes shoot to her cup, "Who wants another drink?" She asks quickly before racing into the kitchen, but it's not enough to avoid the laughter in the dining room.

But she doesn't want to. Because Rachel is laughing so serenely, and so happily, and it makes everything worth it.

–

It takes them twenty minutes to say goodbye. Quinn won't open the door, and that's mostly due to the fact that Rachel is holding onto her hands, refusing to let go. "Your bruises are already healing."

"Yeah," Quinn smiles, "I suppose I'll get some more next week. I'm training with another wolf in Lima for a little while."

"Oh? What for?" Quinn's raised eyebrow is answer to that question, and she blushes, "Oh. Right."

She looks up just in time to see Quinn lean in and brush a kiss to her lips, but then the touch is gone, and she mourns it, "That wasn't much of a kiss."

"Your smell is really strong today." The blonde offers simply.

"Is that your way of telling me I need to shower?"

Quinn smirks, "Oh...no, no need to shower," So she buries her head in Rachel's neck and takes one long sniff. The singer feels the need to be grossed out, but the fact that Quinn is in her arms, and biting so gently at the already healing love bites on her neck, she can't bring herself to care.

"Your parents."

"Are in the other room." Quinn presses a kiss to a particularly dark bite and pulls back, "Did you notice my mom staring at your neck over breakfast?"

"Yes. I did. Thank you for that, by the way."

"Oh don't mention it," She replies cockily.

"I need to go..." Rachel whispers, almost in defeat, "My dad wasn't expecting me to sleep out..."

"Oh, yeah...I need to go hunt anyway," Quinn says, looking over her shoulder to the living room, where she knows her father will be waiting for her, "But uhm...can we meet tonight?"

"I thought we agreed every other night?"

"It's important."

Quinn watches as Rachel begins to silent worry herself into an early grave, so she calms the small singer by placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, "Don't panic. Just be there."

"Okay."

They kiss goodbye, one, twice, three times before Rachel backs up and opens the door with a free hands. They kiss four times, five times, six times before she's backed up onto the porch, "You need to let me go."

"My wolf isn't sated yet." Quinn mumbles against her lips, biting down on a plump bottom one.

"Your wolf is a beast," The singer gasps and Quinn chuckles.

"You're telling me?"

–

"_My daughter cares deeply for you. Whether she's human or a wolf, she cares for you."_

"_I understand that. I care for her too."_

"_As an Alpha, she's prone to show her aggression from time to time. But that's just the blood of a werewolf. A leader at that. You need to allow her; don't stifle her."_

"_As long as she doesn't hurt anyone, she can do what she wants. I don't control her."_

"_I know you don't. But do you know what I'm trying to say?"_

"_You're talking about Michael Hunter."_

"_Hm. It was a time when Quinn had just found out she was Alpha. I've never dealt, nor been introduced to an Alpha before. I didn't know what to tell her, or to help her through it. And with the fact you're the main cause of her urge, and the pain you were so obviously in, her wolf dominated her human side for only a brief few minutes."_

"_She's already told me this, Mr. Fabray."_

"_Russell."_

"_...Russell. I understand what Quinn is going through-,"_

"_No...you really don't, Rachel. Just being in the same room with you takes a toll on her body. She's mentally and physically preparing herself day in and day out just to be able to talk to you, or hug you...or kiss you."_

"_If you're talking about my neck I didn't mean for it to happen, we just-,"_

"_Got out of control. Aphrodisiacs can do that to a person."_

"_Well...yes..."_

"_She will protect you, Rachel, no matter what you do or say. She'll be by your side, always."_

"_I know."_

"_And so will Judy and I."_

"_I-,"_

"_We're your family too. It would be my honor to have you."_

_They hug they shared made her cry, and Russell Fabray just held her, because that's what you just do with family._

–

"Where were you?! I was worried sick!" Hiram screams as she walks through the door.

"I'm...I'm sorry I went to dinner at Quinn's and then I ended up staying the night."

"You could have called, Rachel! Anything could have happened to you!"

"At Quinn's house?" Rachel asks, dead panned.

"Well." Hiram huffs, "Please just...don't do it again, okay? You're going to give me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry, dad." She allows her father to wrap her in a hug, but when he stiffens in her arms, she mentally kicks herself, "Uhm."

"Your neck." He rips his head back, still holding his daughter in his arms, "What happened to your neck?"

"I...fell."

"Into someone's mouth?" He glares down to the bites and then slowly, so slowly, his eyes slide up to lock with hers, "Quinn Fabray."

"I..."

"Quinn Fabray."

"Well, yes." He's already going for the phone, but she dives in the way, holding him back with palms to his shoulders, "Dad...we didn't do anything."

"Except mutilate your neck, it seems. Rachel, you're seventeen."

"Dad, I'm almost eighteen. I'm allowed to kiss who I want."

"Since when are you gay?" He asks all of a sudden, pulling away from her hands and crossing his arms over his chest, "When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You...had your own stuff to deal with..." She looks down to her hands, wringing them together, "I didn't want to bother you," She whispers, "I could deal with it."

"Oh honey," His eyes are shining when she looks up, "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm not there for you."

"You've had a lot to deal with dad, it's okay." She smiles, kissing his cheek.

"Your father would deal with this a lot better than me, it seems."

She frowns, "No. He wouldn't, because he's not here. You are." She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly, so tightly, "And you're all I need."

–

Rachel is miffed when she gets to the park that night. Quinn isn't there, no wolf, no human, just nothing. It's freezing, like, beyond freezing and she's shaking even though she's wearing three layers and a winter coat over it. But she decides to give Quinn ten minutes leeway before leaving, so head's over to the swing to kill some time.

She sits down, and then shoots back up when she feels something dig into her backside. It's a small tape recorder, and when she picks it up and squints at it with the help of the moonlight, she makes out, "Play me."

So she does, after making herself comfortable on her favorite swing. She presses play, puts it on her lap and waits.

"_Hey. I know you're probably wondering where I am right now, but just hear me out okay? I don't have a huge cliché speech to say to you, and I don't really have anything prepared because I only thought of this idea about an hour ago...but uhm...mom go away, I'm doing something. No...I don't want anything to eat. Okay. Hi Rachel! Oh my god, mom, go away. I'm so sorry about that...what was I saying? Uh...oh yeah. Well, last night, when you asked me that question, I wasn't asleep._

_I know it's rude, the fact that I faked being asleep, but I didn't really know how to answer you at the time. So...I thought about it, and I came to a decision. An hour ago, which is right now, but whatever. Damn, I'm confusing myself. But yeah. I came to a decision and...well, you mean the world to me. And I don't mean that in some romance novel, Hollywood movie sort of way. I mean it like you do mean the world to me. Because of my wolf, and because of the way we both feel for you._

_My wolf just amplifies everything, and the fact that you're the one I urge for, I can't really say no to the opportunity to be with you. So...I uhm...I'm not really good with words, I tend to just want to sit in the back of a room and read, but...yeah. I know I'm not as good as you, and I probably won't ever be. But...here goes nothing, I suppose?"_

There's a soft click and Rachel frowns, because she thinks its the end of the tape. She looks around, half expecting for Quinn to emerge from behind a bush or something, but there's nothing. She goes to stand from the swing, but then there's the sound of a guitar, soft and gentle coming through the speakers of the cheap ass tape recorder in her lap, so she sits and listens.

_If all the flowers faded away  
And if all the storm clouds decided to stay  
Then you would find me  
Each hour the same  
She is tomorrow  
And I am today._

She knows the song, even though Quinn's smoky voice leaves it with a distinct difference. It's She Is The Sunlight by Trading Yesterday, one of her guilty pleasures, and ultimate shower song when in a particularly romantic mood.

_Cause if right is leaving  
I'd rather be wrong  
She is sunlight  
The sun is gone..._

And if loving her is,  
Is a heartache for me  
And if holding her means  
I have to bleed,  
Then I am the martyr  
Love is to blame  
She is the healing  
And I am the pain.

Tears are falling before she even has chance to stop them, because she knows what Quinn is trying to tell her. She prepared herself so much for this moment, but now, finally here and presenting itself, she can't help but burst into tears. She holds the tape recorder to her ear and shuts her eyes, just listening to that voice.

_She lives in a daydream  
Where I don't belong  
She is the sunlight  
The sun is gone._

_And it will take this life of regret  
For my heart to learn to forget.  
Tomorrow will be as it always has been  
And I will fall to her again  
For I know I've come too close._

I said if right is leaving  
I'd rather be wrong  
She is the sunlight  
The sun is gone  
She is the sunlight  
The sun is gone...

The guitar plays out in a beautiful one minute play, and it's so stunning. She's sobbing, because she's so happy, because for the first time since everything went wrong at home, she feels that love again. She feels it with Quinn, she feels it with Russell, she feels it with Judy, she feels it with her dad.

The tape recorder clicks off, and slowly she opens her eyes, just in time to lock on with golden hazel of the wolf that sits in front of her.

And she just smiles.


	4. Sunrise

Rachel hates it when Santana automatically assumes that she's the hardest to deal with in a relationship. Especially when she's so smarmy about it, all flippant and just acting like she knows the deal with her and Quinn's relationship, so when they're sat near to one another in Glee Club and just happens to say, "I don't know how Quinn deals with you, Berry. You'd drive me up the fucking wall." She just smiles, because she knows Santana is wrong.

Quinn is the most difficult person she's ever been with, and that's even counting Finn. All he did was sit down and play Call of...whatever it was and rave about Grilled Cheese sandwiches. And although Quinn isn't like that in the slightest, because she's so attentive, and sweet, and caring, and always carrying her books to and from lessons for her, Quinn is just annoying to be with.

Mostly due to the fact that whenever Quinn does something wrong, or tries to bail out on a very important dinner meeting with Hiram Berry so he can finally meet his daughter's allusive girlfriend, she blames it on her wolf.

Her wolf, now the bane of her existence, is coming between the relationship she has with Quinn. Sometimes she wants to rip her hair out when Quinn says something like 'I can't come to dinner tonight, I have to go out hunting' or 'I would see you today, but I was training really hard with Alfred last night and I'm completely wiped out.'

It's a vicious circle that she can't seem to get herself out of.

So she decides to talk to Quinn at lunch. She waits in the cafeteria, at one of the back tables that Quinn, by deed poll, practically owns. She's in the middle of eating the left over lasagna her dad made the night before when she feels such a gentle kiss pressed to the top of her head and then a body thump down beside her.

"Hey baby." It still makes her shudder when Quinn calls her it, and she hopes the feeling with never go away. It's only one word, but to her, it means the world. She's happy that the whole of McKinley know that she and Quinn are together because it just makes things that much easier. No one really knew if Quinn played for one team, so when she walked into McKinley with Rachel Berry on her arm, no one batted an eyelid, except just whisper amongst themselves why two enemies were now dating. But that was all.

"Hey, are you okay?" Quinn smiles and leans in, "Quinn...we're in the cafeteria."

"So?" She glances over her shoulders, "Who cares?" Then she looks back at Rachel, cocky smirk on her face, "I certainly don't."

And they're kissing, and it takes all Rachel has not to just climb onto Quinn's lap, because she can feel that aphrodisiac rushing through her veins already. Their tongues battle in a war for dominance, which eventually, Quinn wins because her tongue does devilish things that makes Rachel melt into the bench she's sat on.

When Quinn pulls back, she's panting, "Pretty good, huh?" But Rachel's still feeling the after effects and all she can say, which Quinn isn't sure is a real word is;

"Guh..."

She laughs and kisses her girlfriend's jaw, "Sorry, I just had to."

"Had to work me up in the middle of a cafeteria filled with students?" She pulls back and shakes her head in mock annoyance, "You're not very nice."

"Oh I'm not...?"

"No..." She looks down to her lunch and starts to dig in once more, "You're not nice at all."

"And why is that...?"

"Because I said so."

"You didn't say that yesterday when I was sucking on your-,"

"Quinn Fabray!" She screeches, and the two tables full of students in front of them all turn around to stare.

Only when they turn around, the guys with smirks because Quinn Fabray being a lesbian is totally a wet dream, and others with pure confusion in their eyes because Quinn just looks cocky and Rachel looks like she wants to melt into the floor and disappear forever.

"Neck. I was going to say your neck."

The singer's head snaps to Quinn, "I thought you meant-,"

"Hm-hm..." Quinn leans forward again, brushing her nose against Rachel's jaw, "But I totally did enjoy sucking on your-,"

"Don't you dare say it." Rachel mumbles, cheeks still flush with embarrassment, "Not here."

Quinn finally relents, mercifully and takes the cookies that Rachel baked her only the night before. It's become a ritual for Quinn; since first eating her girlfriend's cookies, she all but demands to have them made all the time and Rachel is only happy to oblige. So as she opens the paper bag holding those beloved cookies, she can't help but beam like a little school girl.

"How's your training going...?" Rachel asks after swallowing her mouthful of lasagna, "You were suppose to call me last night but you never did." She doesn't want to sound annoyed, but with the way Quinn sighs, it just proves that she didn't pull it off very well.

"I really am sorry. Alfred has been completely kicking me up the ass and I'm just exhausted by the time I get home." Rachel just prods at her food with her fork, "Baby...it's all a good cause. Eventually I won't need to train anymore."

"Yeah, but when will that be...?" Rachel asks, glancing at the blonde beside her, "How long will it be until you can control your urges around me?"

"I don't know, Rach."

It's seems like it's the only thing Quinn ever says these days, "I don't know" or "I have no idea."

So she asks the question that's been wriggling away at her since they first started dating, and she asks it so bluntly that Quinn almost chokes on her mouthful of sugar cookie, "Why do you even need to control your urges?"

"Excuse me?" Quinn asks, eyes watering as she tries to regain her breath.

"We're dating now, Quinn. We're together."

Quinn swallows and turns on the bench, straddling it to face her girlfriend, "Let me ask you a question. I want you to answer truthfully, okay?"

"The fact that you think I wouldn't answer truthfully is absurd, but go on."

"Do you want to have sex with me tonight...?"

Rachel splutters, because honestly, she wasn't really expecting to be propositioned for sex so early on in the relationship. Of course, they'd experimented, what couple didn't? They had well rounded second base; they'd seen each other topless and Quinn's mouth had become well acquainted with her chest, but that was all.

"I...why would you...I really..."

Quinn smiles, "Exactly," And she leans back to grab another cookie from the bag, "That's why I need to control my urges around you. If you're not ready, I won't force myself on you."

But maybe that's what Rachel wants? Maybe she wants Quinn to lose herself completely and have her way with her. Ever since they started dating, and started making out, it was becoming a lot more harder to control her own urges. She isn't a werewolf, far from it, but she is a girl, and she has little things called hormones that tend to explode in a big way when mixed with Quinn's aphrodisiac.

But she respects Quinn enough to know that she wouldn't feel comfortable, so she just takes it at face value, leans forward and dots a kiss to Quinn's nose. Her face immediately scrunches up, and she can't help but giggle. Her wolf did the exact same thing. Her wolf.

"So, dinner with my dad?" Rachel asks, calmly, almost innocently so she doesn't scare Quinn away.

Quinn gawks, then grabs another cookie and takes a small bite of it. Rachel waits, patiently, as Quinn continues to chew on the small mouth full of cookie. It's almost agonizing, and all she wants to do is grab Quinn's luscious blonde hair and make her nod her head in agreement.

"Well...I don't know." And there it is again. "I'm still training with Alfred, and I might not get back until late."

"We'll push back dinner then."

"I'll...need to go home and shower, and change, and won't he ask questions if I'm bruised?"

"The power of makeup. And like I said previously, Quinn, we'll push back dinner."

"...I only eat before seven pm."

"Oh for goodness sake!" Rachel rips up from the bench and all but stuffs her things back into her bag. Quinn just watches her, mouth and eyes wide, "It's just a dinner, Quinn, it's not like I'm asking you to propose. My God!"

And she storms out.

–

No matter how hard she tries, she can't find Rachel. She searches everywhere the singer goes whenever she's upset, or needs to think, or generally wants to pout by herself. But she's not in the Choir Room, or the Auditorium, or in any of the toilets situated around school.

It's a pain in the ass too, because she's surrounded by so many students, who mostly smell like sweat or burgers, so she can't pinpoint Rachel's smell directly. But by the time the bell goes for her next class, she gives up the search in hope that technology will help.

–

She's in Chemistry, and she's suppose to be doing some sort of experiment with a Bunsen burner that looks way too unstable for her liking. Brittany, her lab partner (Lord have mercy) is playing a game with herself, trying to see how close she can get her hair to the flame without it burning. It's almost cringe worthy to watch, and the amount of times she's had to pull her friend back from getting herself burnt, it's just beginning to get on her nerves.

When Brittany is sufficiently calmed down, or bored of her game, Quinn whips out her phone and taps out a quick message, looking up from time to time when her teacher begins to do a circuit around the room.

_**I'm sorry about earlier.**_

She leaves it at that, because she knows Rachel is still going to be amazingly pissed, and Rachel when she's pissed? Is pretty fucking scary, even for an Alpha. She knows she should just bite the bullet and go to dinner with Rachel and Hiram, but she can't, no matter how hard she tries.

Hiram is her father, and with the way things work in her community, the werewolf community, she'd have to lay down the law _to _Rachel's father. It's a brutal thing to do, and when Russell had told her that he had done the exact same thing to Judy's father, and got himself punched twice in the nose for it, she just put her foot down and refused to go to dinner.

She'd been giving excuses since they started dating, and she knew that Rachel was getting tired, and that they were only excuses. But the thought of looking Hiram Berry dead in the eye and saying, "She's mine now, you have no say in what she does. I protect her, you let me do the work from now on." Just makes her want to die where she's sat because even though Hiram Berry, from Rachel's description, is a small almost frail Jewish man, she's pretty sure he wouldn't mind ripping Quinn's pride down a peg or two.

And even though her human side would accept it, her Alpha wolf side, would definitely, most definitely, not.

She keeps glancing impatiently down at her phone, the nail of her index finger tapping the touch screen almost incessantly. Rachel, even in class, never takes this long to text back. Either she's ignoring her or...something happened to her. She feels her inner wolf growl, and she only just stops it from erupting from her own throat. No. Nothing is wrong. Rachel is in class, she's just being a diva and not texting back. That. Is. All.

But her wolf isn't so sure, so she looks back down again when her teacher turns his back and types out another message.

_**Just text me so I know you're okay.**_

Rachel always abides to that; she knows how riled Quinn's wolf gets when it's worried about her. It won't settle down until she either smells her girlfriend's scent, or sees her, or just hears from her. She just needs clarification; she needs to know that Rachel isn't lying in a ditch somewhere...

Okay, really over-active imagination. Quinn props her chin up on the palm of her hand when her teacher glances at her. He narrows his eyes, almost as if he knows something is going on when her other hand is in her lap, but she just acts like she's interested in what he's written on the board, and he's fine.

Her hand isn't buzzing though, and it should be buzzing. She bites down on her bottom lip, because she feels as if she needs to howl, and almost by itself, her body begins to rock back and forward in her seat. It's only a small, almost unnoticeable movement, but it's there, and it's driving her mad.

The bell goes, and she packs away her things while Brittany chirps about something she did on the weekend with Santana. Quinn would be interested, because yeah, Santana and Brittany are her best friends, but why in almighty heaven isn't Rachel texting her back?!

She's a quarter of the way through her next class, Algebra, when her damn phone finally buzzes. Her teacher looks as bored as the rest of the class does, and she seems to be doodling in her notebook or something, so Quinn pulls her phone out of her jeans pocket and clicks on the message.

_I still don't know why you're dating Berry._

It's from fucking Santana, and recently, after becoming Rachel's girlfriend, she's the bane of her existence. All she does is complain that she's dating the Glee Club Captain, that she's bringing her own rep down and therefore Santana and Brittany's because they hang out around her. It's all so...High School, even though she is in High School, but she just wants to scream at something because honestly, she's happy, and so is her wolf, so why the fuck does it matter?

_**Is it honestly any of your business if I'm dating Rachel or not? She makes me happy, S. Just like B makes you happy. Would you like it if I kept calling B a ditzy blonde all the time? If I ripped her apart and called her names every time I saw her?**_

It's her wolf. Okay, so it's part her as well. But Santana really needs to be told to calm the fuck down, because it's really not any of her business who she dates. Santana has her own life, Brittany has her own life, Rachel has her own life, and so does she.

Her phone buzzes, five times in quick succession, and she knows she's gotten her best friend riled up. Part of her is excited to open the texts, just to see how she's reacted, but another part of her wants to lock the phone away in a safe and dump it in the ocean.

_Okay. Let's get one thing straight here. You call Britt anything else that I'm not happy with, I'll make sure I take you all the way to Lima Heights Adjacent and deal with you there._

_Secondly. Have you actually seen Berry? She dresses like a fucking toddler, and if I remember correctly, Q, you told her the exact same thing only months ago. Get the fuck off your high horse._

_Thirdly. Oh yes, I'm still going. I can call Berry the whatever the hell I want. She's bringing down mine and B's rep while we hang out with you. Why do you think we don't sit at lunch with you anymore?_

_Fourthly. Yes. Still going. Get a fucking life._

_And fifth. Screw you._

Her arms are shaking. They're fucking shaking as her eyes just read an re-read those five texts from Santana, and each time she does, she feels as if she wants to lunge over her desk, turn into her werewolf, find Santana, and cut the bitch.

It's driving her crazy, that Santana is so obsessed with being popular that she's willing to turn her back on her best friend. Actually, it doesn't drive her crazy, it makes her sick, because a girl she's known since the beginning of High School, who had her back wherever she went, all of a sudden wants nothing to do with her because she has Rachel Berry as her girlfriend.

Well. She doesn't need Santana. And it looks like Santana doesn't need her.

She punches her thumbs down hard on the touch screen of her phone, not even caring if she breaks the fucking thing, as she types out the last message.

_**Fine. Don't expect us to be friends then, because I'm not going to turn my back on my girlfriend simply because you don't like the fact that her rep isn't up there along with yours. It looks like you need to get a life, S. Not me. **_

Suffice to say, Santana doesn't text back.

–

She isn't there when she makes it to Glee Club. And neither is Brittany, which was bound to happen. Santana's pissed, so she needs sex to calm herself down. She didn't really expect her ex best friend to be at Glee, but the fact that she isn't, does make her smile a little as she walks into the choir room.

Rachel isn't there though. And that smile is gone. Finn looks a little lost, although he's talking to Puck, and his eyes keep slyly glancing at the seat Rachel usually sits at. It still irks her to no end, that Finn hasn't got the fucking message that Rachel is taken, so she just stamps up the risers and sits down beside Mike.

"Wow, you look pissed." He comments, his head snapping toward her when her ass impacts the seat. Tina looks toward her too, and she looks mildly interested at why she's pissed.

Quinn likes both Mike and Tina, they're pretty cool, especially Mike, because he likes all the things she likes. Comic books, Pokémon, video games. When she'd first told Rachel about her love for everything 'dorky' Rachel had just burst into laughter, almost cried, and couldn't breathe for around five minutes.

"_Who would have though Quinn Fabray was a dork!" _

It should have pissed her off, but with the warm look in Rachel's eyes, she only found herself to melt even more.

But now Rachel wasn't talking to her, Santana, and by default, Brittany, weren't talking to her anymore. How could one thing just spiral out of control? She should have just said yes to Rachel, then she could have at least had control over at least one thing.

"Just girl troubles..." Mike cringes, "Friend troubles."

"Ahhh and that's why Santana and Brittany aren't here?"

"You got it, Chang." She slumps back in her seat and watches with bored eyes as Mr. Schue walks in, pulling the bag off his shoulder and dumping it on top of Brad's piano. The piano player looks pissed, and she can't help but chuckle when he grabs Mr. Schue's bag and tips over the opposite side of his instrument.

"What have they done now?"

"Santana's just being a royal bitch about Rachel."

"Is that why Rachel isn't here? She heard you two argue?"

"Nah. Me and Santana were just texting in class, but Rachel and I fell out at lunch."

"What happened?" Tina asks, bracing her elbows on her knees. Mike leans back and allows his girlfriend to talk to his friend, wrapping an arm around the both of them for comfort. Both she and Tina smile.

"She wants to meet her dad."

"Ah, the parentage problems." Mike shudders, "I remember when I met Tina's parents. I threw up on the dinner table."

"Ouch..."

"My parent's family air loom that had been handed down from generation to generation."

"Double ouch."

"Trust me, Quinn. If I can make an ass out of myself and throw up on a priceless air loom, and still have them liking me, you'll get along with Rachel's dads just fine."

"Dad's..." Quinn whispers, "Oh fuck, I forget Leroy."

"Does Rachel want you to meet him?" Tina asks, kissing Mike's still blushing cheek.

"I...don't know, I never really asked."

"Don't you think you should?"

And now she feels like the worst girlfriend ever.

–

_If you won't talk to me, at least see me. I'm going to be at the park at midnight._

"Pay attention." Quinn's head snaps up and she drops her phone back on top of her hoodie that lays in the dirt. "I know you have issues with your girlfriend, but you can't allow it to impact on your training. Do you understand?"

Quinn nods strongly, "I understand."

"Excellent. Now the key to control your Alpha is simply to allow it to think for itself. If you reign it in too much, it'll become enraged, it'll fight you more, it'll want to break free. You need to learn the line between suffocation and freedom."

Alfred Noble makes it all sound so fucking easy, and the way he just carries himself, an 80 year old octogenarian, makes her infuriated with herself. She's young, she should be able to catch onto all of this.

"But how do I know the line?" She shrugs her shoulders, "I either reign it in too much, or I just let it go. I don't know how to get it down perfectly."

Alfred just smiles, "That is what training is for." He claps his hands together, "Now. You have the item of clothing...?"

The item of clothing she was told to bring was essential for today's training session. It was a t-shirt, a dark green Wicked t-shirt that Rachel had left at her house one day after they'd gone out jogging together. She jumps over to her bag, pulls out the shirt, trying to block herself from smelling too much as she hands it to her trainer.

"Are you holding back?" He asks as he unfolds it, and by doing so the smell gets twice as strong. It's there, it's pungent, and her wolf just wants to lunge at it because he's holding something that belongs to her.

"Yeah." She replies, voice rough.

And he wafts the fucking shirt in her direction, and that bastard wind carries the smell all the way to her, and my god is it glorious. It just reeks of Rachel and she feels her arms begin to tense, just like they do whenever her wolf wants to come out to play. The bone in her right forearm snaps, just like a toothpick as she continues to hold herself back from lunging.

"You hate the fact I have the shirt. You want it for yourself."

What comes out isn't a word, but more like a growl, and Alfred just nods to himself in understanding. He's scared, of course he is. He's training an Alpha, and although he's incredibly strong and agile, Quinn isn't trained; he doesn't even know what she would do if they begun fighting. He saw Russell Fabray's bruises and wounds after the fight with his daughter, and he's sure his 80 year old body wouldn't be able to handle it.

"The smell will always be there, Quinn. It's not going to go away. Rachel is yours, she's no one else's. You're her girlfriend, her wolf. It'll always be that way. No one will take that away from you." But he tightens his grip on the shirt and holds it still at his chest, almost as if he's trying to call a bull toward him.

Quinn's bone snaps back into place, and just like that, her arm is back to normal, and the urge to rip Alfred's throat out is gone. But she still wants that damn shirt, she wants it so bad.

He can hear her thoughts, so he says, calmly, confidently, "Rachel is with you, and not with anyone else. Nor does she want to be with anyone else. You are her protector; you are the one that keeps her safe." Then he pauses and waits until Quinn stands up straight against from her hunched over position, "Do you want the shirt?" He asks all of a sudden.

Her eyes snap from the shirt to him, and her wolf is howling to say yes, so she says, "Yes." Through a tired whisper.

Alfred smiles calmly, throws the shirt back into her bag, and claps her on the shoulder, "You're getting there, Quinn. You're getting there."

But she still has a long way to go.

–

She gets back from training a little after ten, and that only gives her enough time to eat the dinner that her mom had left her in the oven; steak, chips and mash potato, hallelujah, and shower. So by the time she's scoffed her dinner down and showered off the dirt from her training, it's already going on eleven. She has plenty of time to get to the park.

–

She's walking, instead of running, because when she does run she has over forty minutes to kill and snapping at small flies is beginning to get a little tiresome. She never seems to catch them, and their little microscopic faces just mock her whenever her snout snaps and misses. So she just takes a stroll, enjoying the way she has time to watch her paw prints press deep imprints into the wet soil below.

At times she can hardly believe she's a wolf. Of course, she had the gene from when she was first born, but had only really come to realize what it all meant when she was six years old, and even then, she didn't really believe her parents then they told her she could morph into a werewolf. _A werewolf! _Something that only belonged in storybooks, like Little Red Riding Hood, and scary movies that only her big sister was allowed to watch.

They weren't real. She couldn't really turn into one! But on the eve of her seventh birthday, she did. It hurt, like a bitch, and her mother and father had come storming into the room when they'd heard her cry out. But when they realized what was happening, all they did was step back, Russell put his arm around his wife shoulders, and they both smiled as they watched their daughter turn into a wolf for the first time. She was a late transformer; her father had first gone into werewolf form at only the age of three, her mother was one, and her sister four.

It honestly varied from person to person, but she just blames it on the fact that she's an Alpha now. Her wolf needed more time to mature before it made itself seen.

But it still makes her smile when she sees her golden paws imprint the soil like they were meant to be there, and half the time, she wishes she could stay as a wolf and just live in the wilderness with her pack. It's freeing, and rejuvenating, and fuck it's everything she's ever dreamed of. But she's a human at the end of the day; and her human needs come first.

She's only minutes away from the park when her ears prick up. She can hear something, it's close, but not so close that she has to be worried. It's around half a mile away, to her right, in the trees. She's half tempted to go search, it could be a deer or something, and that steak, no matter how big, didn't really fill her up that much.

But she stops herself, and continues on, because if Rachel is at the park waiting for her, she knows she won't stick around long if she isn't there. She's already in the dog house, well...wolf house, but whatever, and she doesn't want to make it anymore worse then it already is.

The dash across the road is imminent, and she can see the wire fencing of the park right in front of her. Her right paw moves forward in preparation for a mad dash, but before she can move, she hears a click behind her.

–

Rachel decides that even though she's being a bitch after reading all of Quinn's texts and allowing them to go unanswered, she's not going to go to the park. The fact that Quinn thinks she can deal with everything if she's in wolf form, and she usually can, because Rachel just tends to melt whenever she sees those golden hazel eyes, and that cute little snout, and those twitchy ears that just begged to be scratched, this time it can't be sorted.

So she sits in her room, staring at the clock on her bedside table, just watching it click from 11:59 to 12:00 in the blink of an eye. She should be at the park now, but she can't, and she won't. She's going to stand strong, because she knows that Quinn is well in the wrong here.

She's going to stand her ground.

She drifts off sometime around quarter past twelve, only because the day has just been emotionally exhausting for her, and it feels as if she's only been asleep a few minutes when she hears a commotion outside. She puts it down to drunks coming home from a night out or something, and settles back down in her pillows, cradling herself against the pillow that Quinn tends to use whenever she takes a nap.

Less than a minute later, she hears her dad, walking down the hallway. Weird, to say he has work in less than six hours. So she gets up, gets herself up out of her warm cocoon and opens her bedroom door. Hiram is halfway down the stairs at the end of the hall, and he seems to be in a rush, so she follows him.

He's outside the front door, barely, just leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you okay, dad?" She asks from the top of the stairs. He jumps slightly, but turns to regard his daughter, "Why are you up?"

"It's nothing honey, go back to bed, okay? You have school in the morning."

She would usually keep asking, but the look in his eyes just makes her back up and return to her room.

–

She's in her first lesson of the day when she hears, "Did you hear?" Puck asks Finn from his seat behind her, "I heard they caught that wolf that attacked that Hunter dude a few months back."

Her pen slips from her hand, eyes staring blankly at her desk, "No way! They finally did?"

"Yeah, one of those hunting groups shot it or something."

She feels sick.

"Finally. Kurt was beginning to get on my nerves, thinking that a giant wolf was gonna come jumping through his window and eat him or something."

She needs to be sick.

"Or eat his moisturizing shit."

And they're fucking laughing. She needs to get out.

"Rach, you okay?" She hears Finn ask, but she's already packed up her things and halfway out the door.

–

_Quinn, text me back. Please._

_Answer your phone, Quinn._

_ANSWER YOUR PHONE!_

But there's nothing, and she's just sitting alone in her car, tapping the bottom of her bedazzled phone on her steering wheel. She keeps texting, keeps ringing, keeps leaving messages, but there's nothing just white noise.

By the time she finally gets a call, she's sobbing and she's already picked all of the bedazzled jewels off of her phone with a shaky hand.

_Rachel, honey. I'm at the Fabray house._

Her dad.

–

She's over there in less than ten minutes, and she swears she's gone through three red lights just to cut time. She expects to receive some sort of fine, but she could hardly care less, because she's slamming her fists down on the front door of the Fabray household and she only stops when Judy comes to the door.

"Oh my God..."

"Oh honey," Judy wraps her arms around Rachel as she collapses against her, and just stays there, content to hold her as the girl sobs, "She's okay...she's okay..."

And she just cries more, because she knows she was that close to losing the one good thing in her life.

–

Hiram Berry walks out of Quinn Fabray's room and clasps Russell's hand in his, "She'll be fine. The bullet went clear through her leg, so the wound is clear. I've stitched her the best I could possibly do with what I had and it's bandaged tight. I'll change it when I come back in a few days."

"Thank you." The older Fabray sighs, "Thank you so much, Hiram."

"Don't mention it." He takes his hand back and shakes his head, "I just don't understand why you wouldn't take her to the hospital. She lost a lot of blood, Russ."

"We don't like hospitals, Quinn especially. She never has, not after watching her grandmother die."

"Russ..."

"Just leave it at that, Hiram. Please."

Hiram looks far from happy with the answer his lifelong friend has given, but he just nods half-heartedly and looks down the hall toward Judy and his daughter. Rachel is shaken, visibly, and she looks like she's been crying.

"Baby, are you okay?" He wraps his arm around her, and quietly thanks Judy as she walks around them both to talk to her husband, "Quinn is going to be okay."

But Rachel, without thinking, just says, "The hunting party."

Russell and Judy's head snap up from their whispered conversation, and Rachel can barely see them shake their heads at her, "Hunting party? Baby...? Quinn was shot after someone tired to steal her purse."

"I..." She clears her throat and swallows heavily, her throat bobbing gently, "Oh. But...she's going to be okay?"

Hiram raises an eyebrow and regards his daughter silently, before eventually saying, "Yes. She'll be fine. She needs a lot of bed rest, but she'll be fine."

He holds her as she slowly begins to calm down, just running smooth patterns up and down her back with the palms of his hands. She always enjoyed it as a baby, especially when she wouldn't sleep at night; he'd just do the same pattern over and over again, only using the palms of his hands, and eventually, no matter how distressed she was, she would go out like a light no problem.

She calms and pulls back, wiping the tears from her eyes with the arm of her sweater, "Can I see her...?"

"She's sleeping right now. How about you come back tomorrow after school and see her then, okay?"

"But..."

"Rachel, honey. It's for the best." Judy butts in gently, "Quinn needs to rest. I'll call you if she wakes up, okay?"

She knows she's outnumbered, so she just nods and allows her father to walk her out. He goes to work, and she goes home at her father's request, because after everything, she can't go back to school with her emotions going haywire.

As she pulls into the driveway of her house, she pulls out her newly non-bedazzled phone and calls a familiar number.

"Why was she shot?"

"_The hunting party."_

It's all she needs to know.

–

She manages to go to school the next day, only after he dad orders her to go; that moping around the house will do nothing for her mood. She needs to go to school, see her friends, sing in Glee Club. But she feels if she opens her mouth to sing she'd just burst out crying.

–

Finn is by her side, for some stupid reason as soon as she gets to her locker. She says hello, because she's nice, and he's a good friend, but he's pulling something out his letterman jacket pocket and handing it to her, "I bought you something."

She looks at it. Literally, she just stares at the long package, and she knows what it is, because it's all Finn gives as a present when he can't think of anything else. First it was the necklace with his name on, then it was the one with the star on...which one would it be now?

"Open it." He smiles bashfully, pushing it further toward her. She wants to clonk him over the head with it, but she just tears open the packaging half-heartedly, opens the box and drops uninterested eyes to look inside.

But then there's tears in her eyes as she regards the jewelry.

"I know I've been a bit of a jerk with you and Quinn getting together, because y'know, I still love you and all. But she makes you happy and...well, this is kind of a gift for the two of you. To say I'm happy for you and that I'm gonna back off."

It's two different necklaces, both silver, one with R engraved, and the other Q. It's oddly symbolic, and as she shuts the box again, she looks up and envelops Finn in a tight hug. He has to bend down to hug her, but he just smiles and pats her gently on the back. "Just be happy, okay? She makes you a lot happier then I ever could."

And she does.

–

She feels Santana glaring at her from across the choir room, and usually, she doesn't let it bother her. But her defenses are down, she doesn't have Quinn or her wolf here to protect her, so she just slides down in her seat, almost like she's trying to disappear. She feels so small, so insignificant, and the glare from both Santana _and _Brittany (Because whatever Santana does, she mimics) just makes her feel like a pile of shit.

When Glee is over, she half expects Santana to storm out, closely followed by a pinky linked Brittany. Brittany does leave, but Santana doesn't. And as the rest of the club files out the room, Santana stands by the piano, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"You've fucked my friendship with Q up."

"Excuse me?" She asks, because she honestly has no idea what the hell she's talking about. "I don't believe I know what you're talking about, Santana."

"Oh cut the crap. Thanks to you and Quinn going all hero on your ass she tossed me out like nothing. I've known her longer than you, Berry, and I believe friends come before girlfriend's...right?"

"If that's what you like to think. But I still don't know what you're talking about Santana, I haven't spoken to Quinn in almost two days."

"Oh...so she throws me out on my ass and then falls out with you? Hysterical. I should mark it on my fuckin' calendar. I'll tell you now Berry," She's so menacingly close, finger to her chest, almost nose to nose, "Just because you're Quinn Fabray's girlfriend doesn't mean you're more popular or that people are going to flock to you because they _want _to be your friend. You're still that insignificant twerp that sings Broadway tunes and dresses like you're in kindergarten. That'll never change."

She has no fucking idea where it comes from, but before she can stop it, she spits out, "But I have Quinn. And you don't. Where's your popularity now, Santana?"

She expects a punch, or some form of slap, but instead Santana's leaning back, eyes narrowed dangerously, "She's not here right now, is she?" She gestures around the room, almost mockingly, "Where's your little hero now, Berry?"

Lying in a bed, leg bandaged, half asleep on pain medication.

Tears prick her eyes, and Santana sees it as a win, "Don't cross paths with me Berry, or I'll make you regret it."

She doesn't want to go into the room, although she knows she has to. She's already put it off by drinking a glass of water downstairs and talking to Russell and Judy about the attack. Apparently a member of the hunting party had caught sight of Quinn as they passed through the woods. They'd only managed to see part of her body through the trees, and had to shoot at an awkward angle, hence the shot only to her back leg. She had managed to run away and get back home before collapsing in the hallway outside the living room. Russell, luckily enough, had been up and tended to his daughter.

"_My dad woke up in the middle of the night, he was just staring out into the street."_

_Judy sighs distastefully, "Apparently the hunting group that shot Quinn decided to parade around the streets with their victory." She snarls, "It's disgusting."_

With a heavy breath, just to calm down the heavy thumping of her heart, she twists the doorknob and pushes ever so gently against the wood to gain her entry. She can't look at the bed, not until the door is closed and she can cry without some comfort of knowing the Fabray's downstairs might not hear her.

So when that door closes, and she turns and catches sight of her girlfriend, pale, tucked up to the chest with her blankets, hair fanned out against the pillow. She just sobs. She could have died. She could have died that night and she would have never have even known. If she had spoken to Quinn, if she had just answered those texts instead of being so damn stubborn Quinn would be awake, smiling, laughing, kissing her and telling her not to be silly.

But she's just laying there, chest falling and rising in a slow succession. She's sleeping so peacefully. With nimble fingers, Rachel picks up part of the blanket and looks at the bandage on Quinn's right leg. It's wrapped tightly, so tightly, and she sees where the bullet went in and out, because the usually stark white bandage is soiled with dried blood.

She drops to her knees and collapses against the bed, sobbing against Quinn's neck, and quietly pleading into those ears that are usually so keen, "Please wake up. Just let me know you're okay."

But her plea goes unheard.

–

Russell Fabray watches the sleeping figure slumped across the bed from his daughter's doorway. Rachel is sleeping, but her cheeks are stained with dried tears, eyes puffy and swollen, hands clutching so tightly to the blanket that surrounds Quinn's chest.

With a sigh, he leans down toward Rachel, brushes the hair away from her face and whispers, "Rachel. Wake up." Slowly, she does, eyes bleary as the open, and they shoot from wall to wall slowly as she tries to remember where she is. "That's it. Come on, we'll go get you something to eat."

"I'm...not really hungry." She lies, but Russell just picks her up, wrapping her arm around his strong neck, "Russell..."

"You're eating or you're going home. Pick your choice."

Obviously, she chooses to eat.

–

Judy took the privilege to buy in some Vegan ingredients, because somehow, she knows that Rachel will be around for a while. So Rachel only has to wait minutes until a warm dish is being pulled from oven, and a portion of mushroom risotto is being piled onto her plate. She accepts it warmly, and after taking the first bite, and Judy's questioning look, the way she scoffs the rest down, answers Judy's question of: Is it nice?

"She's turning into our daughter," Russell quips as he watches her eat, and she soon slows down, because she knows what Quinn looks like when she eats, and it _so _isn't pretty. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better," She mumbles after swallowing a mouthful of mouth watering risotto, honestly, it seems to melt in her mouth. Judy should be a damn chef, "When will Quinn wake up?"

"Her body is still healing," Judy replies, pouring more onto her plate from the oven dish in her hand, "Werewolves tend to sleep off their injuries. She should wake up in a day or two."

"Speaking of which, I should really tell Hiram not to come around. If he sees her healed leg after three days, he'll know something is wrong." Russell butts in, scratching his chin, which is scratchy and unshaven.

"I'll tell him you got a stay at home nurse to stay with her or something. He'll believe that, right?"

"With how protective Russell is of his daughters?" Judy asks, "Yes."

Russell and Rachel smile.

–

An old man is in Quinn's room the next day when she arrives after school. It wasn't hard, today, because Santana seemed to be keeping away and Finn was just being a nice friend to her all day, and didn't overstep any boundaries. Although he did ask where Quinn was. To which she just said she was ill and was just staying at home until it passed. He seemed happy enough with that.

But this guy just looks at her when she walks in, takes one almighty sniff and says, "You're Rachel."

That's...just terrifying.

"Yes." She doesn't shut the door this time, because she isn't even sure if he's meant to be in here. She's half tempted to shout for Judy, because Russell is at work, but he seems friendly enough.

"I'm Alfred Noble." He extends his hand, which she takes, because she knows who he is now. "I'm the one training her."

"Oh." She doesn't really have anything else to say, because after all, she doesn't really want to know what they're doing with all the bruises Quinn comes home with afterwards.

"She's a strong girl, Rachel. She'll be up and about in no time. I've already checked her leg, and it's already healed."

"It's only been a few days."

And he winks so playfully, "That's an Alpha wolf for you." She's charmed by him, and he makes her more comfortable when she glances down to Quinn, who looks a lot more better than she did the day before. The color is back in her cheeks, and altogether, seems a lot more comfortable.

"So she should wake up soon?"

He nods happily, "I'll bet my last dollar its within the hour." He pats her gently on the shoulder as he leaves, "You make her happy. She tries so much to tame her wolf for you."

"I know," Is all Rachel can whisper in return as she watches the rise and fall of her girlfriend's chest.

–

It's been an hour, and she hasn't woken up. She doesn't have time to worry though, by her bedside, because her phone is ringing. With a grunt, she leans over to her bag and pulls it out before bringing it to her ear.

"Yes?"

"Rachel?"

Leroy.

"Yes?"

"Hi. I was...just wondering if you were doing okay. You haven't been around for the past couple of days, I was starting to get worried."

She just bites down on her bottom lip and shuts her eyes, "I've been busy."

"Okay. How's school?"

"It's fine."

"Great."

She opens her eyes and looks down to her lap, and she can hear the hesitation in his voice, but she doesn't let it last, "Was that all?"

"You don't call me daddy anymore." He whispers at the same time, but she hears it, and she taps her finger on the base of her phone, gently, slowly.

She can't lie to him, although all he's ever done for the past few months is lie to her, so she just sighs and says, defeated, "I don't really think you deserve the title."

"Oh..." His voice is so weak, and somewhere inside her, something breaks, "Well...I'll uhm...leave you to it then."

"Yeah."

"I love you, Rach..."

"I know. Bye." She flips the phone shut and just sighs.

"That was painful," It's groggy, and her head snaps up almost immediately, looking at her with warm hazel eyes, is Quinn, awake, well, half asleep, but she's awake, "You okay?"

Rachel scoffs, "You're asking me if I'm okay?" She sits up on her knees and leans over Quinn, effectively barring her against the pillows, "You were shot, Quinn Fabray! Don't you understand?"

"I understand. And I'm fine."

"You..." Rachel slumps back again, "It was my fault."

Quinn frowns, "Why do you say that?" She tries to roll over onto her side, but even though the wound in her leg is healed, it still aches like a fucking bitch, so she just stays still, and tries to shuffle ever so slightly closer toward her dejected girlfriend.

"If I had answered your texts, you wouldn't have needed to go to the park that night. Everything would have been fine."

"But you didn't," Rachel looks up slowly, "But it's in the past, and I'm still here, alive and kicking. Well, not kicking yet, but I will be soon enough." Quinn adds a cocky smirk, and Rachel chuckles ever so slightly. "So. Are you okay?"

"Except for thinking I almost got you killed, oh I'm fine."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "I meant Leroy."

"Oh." But she stays silent, because she thinks if she talks about it, she'll just burst out sobbing. And she's sick and tired of crying all the time, it's all she's done since Leroy cheated, and she just wants it to stop, at least for a little while.

But Quinn's patting the side of the bed that's unoccupied, and Rachel doesn't hesitate to get up and stumble to the other side of the bed. "I won't hurt your leg if I get on, will I?"

Quinn chuckles, "You're not mounting a horse, Rachel."

But she gets on the bed like she's mounting a horse anyway, and Quinn just laughs until Rachel is snuggled tightly at her side, arm resting over her abdomen. "Feel better?" She asks, kissing the top of the brunette's head softly.

"Kinda."

"Wanna talk about it...?"

"The hunting party?"

Quinn rolls her eyes, yet again, "No. Your father."

"Talk about the hunting party first...then I'll talk about him."

"Rach..."

"I just want to know what happened. It'll...ease my mind a little."

Quinn pulls back as best she can, and tilts Rachel's face up with a finger under her chin, "Why do you say that?"

"I was the last to know, and I'm your girlfriend Quinn, I just...I at least want to know what happened, how you felt, it'll make me feel a little less inadequate."

"Rachel..."

"Please?" And she asks with a kiss to Quinn's soft lips.

"Baby, I haven't brushed my teeth in like...I don't know how many days."

"I don't care," Rachel mumbles back, just content to feel Quinn's lips and tongue against hers again. They kiss slowly, almost as if they're trying to re-memorize each other's mouths once again. They take their time, and not a single flick of a tongue is rushed. The way Quinn's hands fist the back of her blouse just makes her melt further into the girl beneath her, and she finally knows that Quinn is really okay. "Tell me..." She finally mumbles, pulling back.

The aphrodisiac is there, and Quinn is panting softly, but it's not as pent up, it's sedate, and it's almost like she's coming home to something.

"I was about to run across the road to the park," Rachel settles herself back down against Quinn's side, and squeezes the blonde's ribs gently to let her know when she's settled, "I thought I heard something a little earlier on, but I just put it down to a deer or something. But I literally had one paw on the road, and I heard this mute click. Like the sound of a gun being cocked, and then I just felt it. I didn't see it, but I felt it in my back leg. I knew I'd been shot, but I didn't stay around to see what happened because I heard some...guy shout from in the trees 'I shot the fucker'."

"So you ran...?" Rachel whispers against Quinn's neck, placing soft chaste kisses to the skin, just to soothe and not to tease.

"I had to, or I would have been..." The kisses to her neck stop, "You know." The kisses continue and she melts back into the touch, "I was struggling by the time I got onto my street, but I managed to get through the door and transform back into my human self before I collapsed on the floor. I...don't remember much then, just my dad saying some stuff really."

"My dad bandaged your leg for you."

"I'll have to thank him for that."

She feels Rachel smile against her neck, and she knows it's coming, "Thank him at dinner when you're feeling better then."

But she knows what avoiding things can do to a person, or to a wolf, so she just smiles, presses a kiss to the top of Rachel's head and mumbles, "Sure."

–

They talk for hours, because they feel as if they haven't seen each other in years. It's satisfying to watch Rachel laugh once more when she tickles her, or the way she chastises her with a soft 'Quinn Fabray!' when she nibbles on her neck.

Both Judy and Russell had come up hours before with dinner that they both demolished. Well, Quinn demolished both hers and Rachel's, so either way, both plates were empty and almost licked clean by the time they were done with. Both the Fabray's seemed happy with Quinn's progress, and told Rachel she cold sleep over if she promised to let their daughter rest and made sure Rachel herself, got to school.

They steadfastly agreed. But they hadn't slept, and just toyed with their intertwined fingers, kissing softly and making sure their bodies were as close as possible.

"Your wolf isn't jumping for me."

"My wolf's ego is battered. It'll take a few hours for it to want you in that primal way again."

Rachel softly giggles and presses a kiss to Quinn's nose, once again enjoying the way that her face scrunches up, "Good thing I leave in a few hours for school, then."

Quinn sighs, "Yeah. I guess so."

"I'll be back straight after." Rachel promises, and Quinn honestly believes her, because she knows Rachel won't abandon her. But then the mood is shifting, and Quinn smells it on Rachel, "What happened with Santana?"

"Huh?" Ah, fuck. "She just riled me up that's all."

"Riled you up, or your wolf up?"

"Both."

"Ah." Rachel shifts closer, if it's even possible, and she lowers her voice, "What happened?"

Quinn's eyes shoot from the dark brown of Rachel's eyes, they seem to glow in the early light of sunrise, and it shows the true beauty of her girlfriend. She looks so pure, almost angelic, and it honestly takes her breath away.

"She just...She thinks that my being with you, brings down her rep. She didn't say it, but she insinuated that I needed to choose between you and her."

Rachel's face is poker, and Quinn thinks she's said something wrong, but then she's smiling, so softly and kissing Quinn for all she's worth. She's on her back before she knows it, and Rachel is carefully, gingerly straddling her hips as to not knock her leg. "You chose me," She whispers against soft lips.

And Quinn just smiles and says, "I'll always choose you." Before kissing her girlfriend in the haze of a beautiful morning sunrise.


	5. Sunset

**Thank you for all your kind words regarding my mugging. I recently got my phone back and thankfully, my documents were backed up on iCloud. Sorry for the wait, but thank you so much for your patience. Enjoy the next chapter!**

* * *

Her paws pound heavily on the dirt below. Fast paced, brutal, she feels the exhaustion wash over her body as she just keeps running, and running and running, trying to escape the inevitable. She just needs to get away, get away for a few hours, minutes, seconds. She needs to breathe again, just _feel_ again. Her muscles ache and burn as she leaps over a fallen log and into the undergrowth, she sees it, right there, and with mouth wide open, teeth bared and at the ready, she launches and sinks her teeth into the tiny body of a rabbit in mid-leap.

It feels glorious as the blood drips from it's twitching body and onto her long tongue; she savours it. This, she was in control of. No one could take that away from her. No one could stop her from transforming, going for a run and just being the wolf that she is. She doesn't have to hide, or dismiss the idea of her heritage. Here, she's an Alpha wolf, the leader of the pack and nothing more. Nothing else needs to be said.

And as she clenches her jaw over the rabbit's neck and then snaps it, it all comes crashing down on her. She can run all she wants, train all she wants, hunt all she wants; at the end of the day, it still needs to be done. She needs to get all dressed up, she needs to be on her best behaviour, she needs to prove that she's good for Rachel.

She _needs _to go to dinner with Rachel and Hiram Berry, because if she doesn't, Rachel won't hesitate to make her life hell.

That or nag her to death.

–

Russell watches as his daughter comes in from her hunt, halfway through pulling up a pair of shorts as she enters through the doors that lead in through the backyard. She looks exhausted; hair matted to her forehead, face drenched in sweat, veins pulsing with blood that refused to slow down.

"Good hunt...?" Russell asks casually as he looks up from his paper. He's only just got in from work, and a part of him is a little upset that his daughter couldn't wait a few hours until he got home. They never seem to hunt anymore, and Quinn always seems to be distant, dealing with her own things, in her own way.

"Yeah, it was okay." Quinn says from the kitchen, still out of breath. He hears the fridge hum as his daughter opens it and he smirks.

"Don't you dare eat the cookies in there, Quinn."

"Urgh. Fine." But the fridge door doesn't close, and without rustling his paper, he listens to his daughter's movements. She hasn't moved, the fridge door is still open, what the hell is she doing?

Then he hears it and he rolls his eyes, "Put the cookie down."

"God dammit!"

He just smirks and returns to his paper. He's vaguely aware of Quinn joining him on the couch and flicking on the TV. He's too engaged in reading about the stock markets to even notice what she's watching, but when he turns the page, her scent hits him and he rears back almost like he's been punched.

"What?" Her eyes snap to his, and they're still glowing a golden hue, just like usually so close after transforming back, "What's wrong?"

"You're terrified."

Quinn's head snaps toward him, and she's biting down on her bottom lip, "No I'm not."

"Don't lie to me, Quinn. I can smell it all over you."

She opens her mouth so she can lie again, but her father's gaze is unwavering, and almost frightening. He seems to read her like an open book, and only when she leans down to sniff her own armpit, because it just has to be done, does she smell the terror she's exuding. And it fucking reeks.

"Jesus, I reek."

And she does. And she knows why she's terrified, and why her father is downright shocked that she is. An Alpha is never suppose to exude that type of fear, and when his eyes run up and down her body almost like he's inspecting her, she can't help but worry that little bit more.

"What's wrong? Have you been having nightmares again?"

The nightmares that seem to plague her every night. The shooting incident, as it was dubbed, seemed to have struck her a lot deeper than she originally thought. At first, it didn't really bother her; because after all, her leg was only hurt and she got out of it relatively unscathed. But when she fell asleep after Rachel had left for school, the first nightmare of many would come to haunt her.

She was running through an open plane. Just grass. Nothing more. And only the haze of a purple sky haunts her from up above. But she isn't a wolf. She was a human, and she feels those hunters behind her. She can't see them, or hear them, but she can sense them, and no matter how hard she tries to transform into her strong Alpha wolf to run that little bit faster, she can't. And then her leg starts to hurt, a deep impenetrable ache that seems to engulf her entire body. She only makes it a few more yards before she collapses to the earth, sharp grass digging into the skin of her face. No matter how hard she tries, she can't get up. Her body is weak, so weak, but she can still feel them gaining on her, so she wills her body to get up. But it doesn't. And so she lays there in the grass, a hazy purple sky turning thunderous and violent. She hears the click of a gun, and then only the shot of a gun when she wakes up screaming in her bed, sweat dripping down her body and soaking her clothes.

It's horrible, and she has it nightly. That same hazy purple sky just seems to mock her, and her body that seems unwilling to co-operate just makes her angry. So when she transforms, she makes sure that her body is ready, and strong, and fast, and can deal with the sudden change. Her wolf appears in a fascinating show of dominance and rage, and it feels so deliciously perfect that she, herself, can't understand it. Her wolf is there, strong as always, but in her dreams...

She knows the dreams aren't real, and that maybe it's just PTSD, but in her heart of hearts, she knows it's because she was scared she was going to die. Hearing the shot of that one gun, could have ended her life, could have ended everything special she had.

"No, it's not the dreams." Because it's not. It's not what she's terrified about although the dreams are terrifying in their own right, but they just make her feel enraged, incapable, little. She isn't fucking little, she's an Alpha, and she knows how strong she is, so when those dreams disallow everything she knows she's capable of doing, she just wants to scream. "It's dinner."

"I know I'm not a very good cook, but even I can cook meatloaf."

She snorts, because he truly is a horrible cook, and the only reason her mother isn't cooking is because it's a girl's day/night out with her friends. Russell insists she has one at least once a week, just to get out of the house; because even though she's a stay at home mom, she needs at least to have some down time.

"It's not that, dad."

"Then what about dinner? Don't you want meatloaf...?"

No she doesn't, because she knows it's going to be raw inside, but whatever. "No dad, I mean..." She sighs and slams her head back against the cushions of the couch, "I have to go to dinner with Hiram Berry next week."

"Ah." Russell folds up his paper, meticulously, just like always, before putting it down beside him. He turns his body slightly and gives his full attention to his daughter, because after all, meeting the parents is always a big deal. And although Quinn has seen Hiram on more than one occasion, they haven't really spoken, and well, she wasn't dating his daughter back then either. "Hence why you're terrified. You think he won't accept you."

"Well that and..." She shrugs her shoulders, "I guess I'm scared my wolf will want to threaten him, show him that she belongs to me now."

He chuckles, "Well as long as you don't thump your chest, throw her over your shoulder and scream 'mine' in his face, I'm sure you'll be in the clear."

"I'm not a caveman, dad."

"Have you seen the way you eat?" He quips, "You might need to work on that too. I'll have your mother teach you some etiquette so you don't get any of the food he cooks down your clothes or in your hair."

Her cheeks color in mortification, "It was one time..." She whispers in a meek voice.

"Oh, it was more than once Quinn."

"So now I have to be trained by Alfred for my wolf and my mom for eating?"

"I didn't raise you to eat like a pig." He picks up his paper and unfolds it, "And if you want to make a good impression, you'll use both your mother and Alfred's training to your advantage."

"Lord have mercy."

"Amen."

–

_Hey baby! You excited for Friday night?_

_**Yeah totally.**_

_Excellent. I'm just texting to tell you that although our dinner meeting is five days away, you must prepare yourself to meet my father._

_**Oh...?**_

_Yes! My father is a highly regarded surgeon, Quinn. He's very smart, and if you try to be anyone but yourself, he will know. So just be your charming usual self and he'll fall in love with you._

_**My charming usual self is usually attached to your neck, though. How would he find that?**_

_Quinn. I'm sure by now, and you have proven this, that your wolf is easier to tame. If it would help I will sit across the dinner table from you, I'm in the midst of creating a seating plan anyway._

_**There's three of us...**_

_Seating plans are always needed, Quinn, don't be lazy. After all, my father will be at the head of the table, me opposite you on either side._

_**No! Oh my Jesus Christ no, you need to sit next to me.**_

_Why?_

_**Because I'll die if you don't**__._

_I'm rolling my eyes at you right now._

_**Seriously, please, and can I sit further away from him so you can kind of block me from his eyes.**_

_...You're being ridiculous._

_**Rachel, baby, please, just do this for me. I'm already worried as it is.**_

_Why are you worried?_

_**Because of my wolf. I know I can tame it a lot better, but well...there's always a chance that it'll show it's dominance toward your father.**_

_Why would it do that?_

_**To prove that your mine.**_

_Oh..._

_**Rachel?**_

_**Rach?**_

_**Are you okay?**_

_**I'll ring you if you don't text back.**_

_**Please answer your phone.**_

_**I'm going to bed. I'll see you at school tomorrow, goodnight xxxxx**_

–

Luckily, she catches Rachel just before first period. She's at her locker, saying goodbye to Finn who waves and lumbers off down the hallway to find Puck. She knows about the necklaces that Finn bought them both, and she does wear it, because in a way, it just proves that she belongs to one Rachel Berry, but she still can't help but feel threatened by Finn and his present giving.

Her wolf settles when he finally turns a corner, thankfully, and she walks up to her girlfriend, shutting the locker door before she can.

"Why did you stop talking to me last night?" She asks, both miffed and upset.

Rachel sighs, rolls her eyes and looks back to her locker to open it once more. But Quinn's hand, pale and perfect is resting down hard against the metal. "Quinn, let me into my locker."

"Will you just tell me? Did I say something to offend you?"

But she's quiet, and only when Quinn reluctantly pulls her hand away to let Rachel back into her locker, does she open her mouth. "I didn't like what you said."

"What...? What did I say?" She knows what she said, she read her sent messages over and over again the night before to try and understand what she said that made Rachel stop talking to her.

Rachel just smells like anger, but there's an underlying smell that Quinn can't identify when her girlfriend finally opens her mouth and says, "'To prove that you're mine.' Ring a bell...?"

"What's wrong with that? I don't understand."

Then Rachel's slamming her locker shut and crossing her arms primly over her chest, "I'm not property, Quinn. I don't belong to anyone. I belong to myself, I control myself."

"I know that. But it's just-,"

"I know what it is. I know that's how it works in _that _society but it must send the feminist movement back around fifty years."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "I thought you understood. You did all that research, you even made that power point presentation. That's how things work with me and my 'society'." She even makes quotation marks with her fingers, because she's getting a little annoyed, and Rachel just rolls her eyes at it, "That's how it's always worked. You're the one I urge for, you're the one that I need to have in my life, I can't help it if my..." She glances over her shoulder and back again, "You know, needs to show that in some way."

"I understand that..."

"No, you really don't, because you wouldn't have gotten annoyed. It's not a bad thing when I say 'you're mine.' I don't mean it in a way that I own your soul or anything it's just...no one else can have you..." She ends weakly, and looks down to her feet. She can't say anything more, because there's nothing else to say. If Rachel can't understand that basic need that her wolf _needs_ to have then she doesn't know what she'll-

Rachel's tilting her head up and kissing her, clasping hands around her strong neck and holding her there as their lips massage one another's. It's tender, and caring, and almost loving. It's a silent and secret declaration that yes, Rachel does understand, and that she's sorry she blew it all out of proportion. So Quinn accepts it by accepting Rachel's tongue into her mouth, and wrapping arms around a petite waist.

They hold one another, just content to kiss, eyes closed and just enjoying the feel of one another as time ticks by and students walk to their classes. Then Rachel's pulling and resting her forehead against Quinn's, noses bumping slightly together, "I understand."

"Do you really?" Quinn whispers, pulling Rachel as close as she can. She feels the rough texture of one of Rachel's cardigan against her arms, and it feels perfect, and she just needs the girl even closer. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes and if it helps, I don't want anyone else. But I would ask you try and restrain yourself in front of my father." She pecks a kiss to Quinn's nose and smirks, "I'm sure he has a few scalpels in his work bag."

She wishes running away was still an option.

–

He isn't talking, but she can feel his unwavering gaze upon her. They're running, side by side, and she knows she isn't being as fast as she can be, and she knows it's because all she can see is floating scalpels in the back of her mind. He can tell, and she can smell that he's beyond pissed off. She isn't trying, so she fastens her steps, but he's skidding to a stop in front of her, his body barring her from her run.

_You're slacking!_

He's angry, and her wolf just pants, silently begging for air. She knows she's slacking, she knows she isn't trying, but that dinner date with Rachel and Hiram is just making her lose her mind. She's scared her wolf won't be contained, she's scared she'll make an ass out of herself, she's scared that Rachel will see her be violent and dominant and overly protective and just become disgusted by it all.

_I can't help it._

_Yes you can! _Grey eyes storm and they're face to face. There's a thick tension in the air, and it makes her fur just feel as if it's on fire. He's not suppose to argue with her wolf, she's the fucking Alpha, not him.

_Don't order me around, Alfred._

And they're both growling, forehead to forehead as both their head's lower to the ground. Eyes are trained on one another, golden hazel on stormy grey. _You're being a child worrying about a stupid dinner when you should be training to control your urges. Priorities!_

_Don't order me around._

Teeth are bared, Quinn's to be exact, and Alfred just remains stoic, eyes trained, noses snuffing at the dirt. He's breathing hard, because honestly, he's terrified. Quinn is a strong wolf, and the way her sharp white teeth glint in the afternoon sunlight, it sends a shiver through his fur.

_I won't waste my time training you if all you will do is procrastinate over your girlfriend!_

And Quinn's jaw is snapping at his snout, and he manages to pull back, but only barely, because he still feels those sharp teeth fly through the hair on his nose. He stands defensively, watching Quinn's movements carefully. She's haphazard, her lean body is shaking and her growling is doing nothing to remedy the fact. He tries to calm her down, but her mind is unreachable, clouded over with violence and determination. She wants to attack him, she wants to hurt him.

His human side quakes with fear, and although the wolf knows he shouldn't fight with an Alpha, he has no other choice. He tries to bow his head in defeat, but before he can even flex a muscle in his thick neck, Quinn is leaping at him, and this time he's not quick enough to dive out of the way.

She's on him, pinning him down with two strong paws, her whole body over his. They struggle, violently, and a dust of dirt circles the struggling wolves as they snap at one another. He tries to reach out once more, to try and find her clear mind, but there's nothing there, nothing but pure rage.

He knows he's messed up, and when he feels a heavy paw slam down against his back, he knows he might not make it out alive.

But he fights, regardless. He's strong, he's always been strong. So he jolts his body around until she's flung across the flat earth. But she's up again, and flinging herself back toward him. He dodges back, front paws kicking up dirt into her face, and he's shocked when it doesn't faze her. Those golden hazel eyes are as strong as ever, brutal and deadly and his paws quake with fear.

So he does the only thing he can do. He goes for her back leg, the leg that although healed still gives her pain. He snaps at it, and he manages to rip at the fur surrounding it before she's out of the way again. The old wolf has no time to mourn the loss though, because she's gone.

Quinn is gone. The air is oddly silent around him, the dust has settled back to the floor and only a light breeze settles through the surrounding trees. He calls out to her, begging for her to see sense, to come back so they can start afresh, but he hears nothing. He doesn't hear her voice, usually sweet and gentle, nor does he hear the thud of paws against the ground.

A wolf can't just disappear within the blink of an eye and be unable to be heard. But then again, he's never seen an Alpha before; he's only heard tales of strong and heroic wolves that lead their packs or gave their lives to protect them. He knew nothing of their speed, or of their inevitable strength.

His grey eyes circle his surroundings, taking in each and every movement with a well trained eye. Only trees rustle, and dust kicks up from the floor, but there's no golden wolf with a vendetta.

He turns fast, terrified to keep his back in one position for too long. Although Quinn was a young wolf, she was an Alpha, a born tactician; her mind would make up countless strategies for battle even if she didn't want them to. So he moves, in a small circle, keeping his body as small as possible in case of an attack, and flicks his eyes quickly in every direction he can.

But then he hears the rustle of leaves behind him, brittle and shaky, and only manages to glance out of the corner of his eye when he sees a blur of golden silver dive upon him, slamming his aged body to the ground with a heavy and painful thud.

She was hiding in the trees.

He's only managed to stabilize one leg when Quinn gets her bearings back from the high drop, and only when his whole body, shaking and wounded raises from the dirt, he feels sharp teeth dig into his throat, clenched down and ripping.

–

_**I need to see you.**_

_Why? Is something the matter?_

_**I just need to see you.**_

_Quinn, you're scaring me._

_**I just keep screwing up.**_

_Baby...Where are you? I'll come to you._

_**Park.**_

_I'll be there soon. Do not move!_

–

She expects Quinn to be human when she enters the park, but she's not. She's sat, dejected by the slide, body laying down, head resting on outstretched paws, eyes closed. In the glow of the days sunset, her fur alights almost like a bolt of fire; it's beautiful, and magnificent, and Rachel takes just a second to just enjoy the view.

But Quinn's wolf looks so dejected and hurt, and it breaks her heart as she moves toward her. She doesn't hesitate in her steps, and she knows that Quinn knows she's there by the way those cute ears prick up into the air. She slides down to the earth beside Quinn and strokes the fur on her head softly, dragging her fingers through the thickness of it. It never ceases to amaze her how soft that fur is, and how just running her fingers through it make her feel that close to Quinn as both a wolf and a human.

Quinn doesn't lift her head, and her eyes remain shut, but she mews softly at the fingertips that brush against her skull. It's warming, and it makes her feel safe, makes her feel as if she's finally done something right. But she hasn't.

"What happened...?" She asks although she has a relatively good idea about what's happened.

Paws sift through the dirt on the ground, nails digging into the earth, almost as if they were trying to pull it free. But Rachel just sits there, legs crossed, fingers still running a gentle pattern on Quinn's head before slowly making their way down a strong neck.

"Tell me."

But her heart just breaks when Quinn slowly plants her head on Rachel's lap and burrows into the crevice between two legs, almost as if she's trying to hide away from the world.

–

They'd sit together for a few hours, Quinn unwilling to revert back to her human side to talk. So Rachel assumes they just needed that closeness; the feeling of one another to feel secure. When Quinn finally rises from her spot though, licks gently at Rachel's cheek and then wanders off toward the wire fence, the singer just watches and silently mourns for her girlfriend.

–

Judy Fabray is at home and fuming when Quinn returns, and all the blonde wants to do is go up to her room and bury herself in her covers. For a few hours she managed to forget with Rachel, just sitting contently, allowing Rachel's smell and touch to calm her down.

But when her mother plants herself in front of the stairway before she can even get to the bottom step, she knows she can't avoid it, she knows she can't run away. So she lets her mother grab her by the shoulders, barely noticing the way her nails dig through the thin material of her t-shirt, and pushes her into the living room.

"Mom..." She whispers, almost through a whine when she's pushed in, but no response comes because the door is shutting cleaning behind her with a loud click. She's shut in and when she turns back to face her doom, she knows what to expect and there sat alone on the couch is Alfred Noble, neck bandaged, two black eyes and crudely made arm sling.

–

"You need to see your father." Hiram comments over dinner, fork in the middle of twirling through some spaghetti, "You've been avoiding him for two weeks. Your father thought it would be a good idea to go to dinner tomorrow night with him and...Michael. You _will _be going."

Rachel just stares, because yes, she has been avoiding him. She doesn't want to see that fake happiness that he tries to exude upon her; trying to make everything right again when it just isn't. She doesn't want to hear him gush about Michael Hunter and the fact he's leaving a loving wife and two beautiful children behind just so they can be together. She doesn't want to resign herself to the fact that Leroy is in fact gone and won't be coming back to their perfect little family.

"I don't want to..." She finally whispers, eyes landing back onto her half empty plate. She was hungry before he'd opened his mouth, so she just pushes it away, and he watches her with questioning eyes.

"Why not?" He asks, like it's the simplest question on the earth. "Why don't you want to see your daddy?"

"Because he isn't my daddy anymore."

She hears him sigh, and his fork come to gently rest on his plate, "Avoiding him will do none of you any good. At the end of the day, he's still your father, and if he chooses to move on with someone else than so be it."

"Why are you so calm about this?" She exclaims, eyes wide with astonishment, "Stop trying to act like it's okay! It's not, dad. I hear you cry every night because you miss him, I know you do, I see it right now. You want him back. He's hurt you, he's hurt me, he's hurt our family. What gives him the right to be happy and not us?"

And she's out of her chair, and barely registers the fact her father calls her name, voice shaken and broken, just silently wishing everything would be _okay _again.

–

She hates this. She hates it so damn much. She's just sat in an arm chair, hands gripping the armrests like it's a damn life line. The silence is deafening, and all she wants to do is bolt from the room. She's uncomfortable, she wants to leave, she wants to see Rachel again, she wants to just fucking leave.

But she can't, and she's stuck in the damn chair because her body is almost too terrified to move. He's staring at her through swollen black eyes, and she can't bare to look up from her lap at him. She knows what she did was disgusting and unforgivable. At the end of the day, he's an 80 year old man that's just enjoying the rest of his life, and giving his valuable time to give her the training she wouldn't be able to get anywhere else.

He's doing it all for her and she just repays him with a ripped throat and a broken arm. So when she finally looks up, eyes lidded as she looks at him, he has such a look of compassion in his eyes that she just breaks down before him.

"I am so...so sorry..."

Because she is. She got angry but she had no right to fight, she had no right to injure a man that only wanted her to be the strongest she possibly could. She had no right to fight a man that was almost like Grandpa Fabray from all those years ago; a man that cared for her, sat her on his lap and called her Sunset because her eyes glowed with a ferocious need to just _live_.

She knows Alfred loves her just like she's his own, and it just makes everything that much worse as she chokes on her sobs.

"I'm so sorry!"

And he just listens to her cry, and feels tears prick his own eyes because she's just a scared little girl still trying to come to terms with her power. She's a girl that has so much weight on her shoulders from being an Alpha. She's a girl that just wants to hold her girlfriend's hand and not worry about the repercussions. She's just a girl that he adores with every fibre of his being because she would do anything for anyone.

So when she calms down, and the tears are dried, and those watery hazel eyes dance across his battered face, does he finally say;

"Apology accepted."

And she just breaks down all over again.

–

She has AP History with Rachel the next day at school, and only when she dots a kiss to her girlfriend's forehead as she passes with a whispered 'I'll tell you all about it' in her ear, does she realize what's wrong with this class.

She has to sit next to one Santana Lopez, and one Santana Lopez, looks really fucking pissed.

Quinn glances over her shoulder at Rachel, who just shrugs with a wince before turning her attention back to the front because Mr. Collins has just entered the room, looking like he's just finished a snack or something because he has a mustard stain on his tie.

"Quinn."

It's tense as she sits down, but she just mutters, "Santana." And lets herself be content to just sit and listen to Mr. Collins' damn lecture because the thought of holding a conversation with her ex best friend just makes her want to run away. She's heard rumours that the Latina keeps razorblades in her hair.

They're about a quarter of the way through the lesson when she notices Santana tapping her pen in the corner of her eye. It's almost melodic, and it takes a few rounds until she notices it's the chorus to 'Bad Girlfriend' by Theory of a Deadman. She just shakes her head, but it makes her wonder if she's trying to insinuate that Rachel likes to get drunk and sleep around, or if she's just got that song stuck in her head.

Her hand is cramped from scribbling notes down so fast, and only when she puts her pen down to crack the knuckles in her left hand does a piece of paper slide over her notebook. Santana looks coy when she pulls her hand back and returns to writing her notes, which are practically non-existent, and it makes her wolf feel uneasy.

So she pulls open the note and her eyes scan the hastily scribbled words.

_How are things with lover girl?_

Her brow scrunches up, because after the conversation she and Santana had, it's obvious that she doesn't want Quinn to be with the singer, or anywhere near her for that matter. So she just grabs her pen and replies, _why do you care?_ Before sliding it back to the girl beside her.

Santana chuckles softly beside her and writes back quickly before shoving it back on top of Quinn's notebook.

_Don't get me wrong, I couldn't give two fucks. I'm just asking how you and the hobbit are doing._

_I swear to God if you call her that again I'll end you._

_Reign in your uterus, Quinn. How are you and BERRY._

_Fine. We're good. Excellent actually. Not breaking up, although that's what you want to hear._

_I still don't know what you see in her. She's toxic._

_She stands by me._

_I stood by you Quinn, once upon a time before you chose the biggest loser in school to gain entrance into your wonder down under._

_You stood by my popularity, Santana. Not me._

The bell all but shrieks around the classroom, and when Quinn is by Rachel's side, smiling and taking her hand does she hear the Latina say, "You couldn't be more wrong." Before leaving the room.

–

"What was that all about?" They're sat together, side by side at their table in the cafeteria. Quinn has her cookies, those glorious cookies that are like gifts from the heavens, and Rachel has some weird concoction that even though the singer states is delicious, looks like it belongs in some toxic waste vat and locked away.

"With what...?" She asks, hands stopping mid tear as they work their way into the bag on her lap.

"Santana."

Quinn just rolls her eyes and pulls out a sugar cookie, taking the time to smile at the simple decoration Rachel put on it. In small cursive writing was R and Q, which was written in Quinn's favourite red icing. Okay, so there was nothing in the house and her mother's icing kit was just there in the cupboard.

"She was just asking me how you and I were doing."

"And what did you say?" Her girlfriend asks before taking a sip of her water.

"That we were doing great and that we weren't breaking up."

Rachel just watches her, and it's slightly unnerving, so she just shoves the cookie into her mouth and chews slowly, content to let the crunch be the only thing that fills the air between them both.

"Why doesn't she want me to be with you? I don't understand."

Quinn swallows, "I guess it's just because from when High School first started it was just me, her and Brittany. No one really ever intruded on our little circle. I mean, we were nicknamed the Unholy Trinity for a reason. So when you came into the picture, she just got...I dunno...threatened?"

"It's not like I was going to take you away from her..." Rachel brushes her bangs away from her eyes before cupping her chin in the palm of her hand, "I mean, if it's such a problem-,"

"Don't even say it." Quinn growls, shuffling up the bench until both of their bodies are touching. She melts into the warmth that Rachel exudes, and because it's the most natural thing in the world to her, she leans in and presses a kiss to the throbbing pulse point at Rachel's neck, and smirks when the tan skin quivers beneath her pouting lips. "If she can't deal with the fact that I'm with you, then I don't want her involved. She has to understand that you're not going anywhere."

"Oh I'm not...?" Rachel replies playfully, melting into the kisses that Quinn slowly begins to dot up her neck, tongue dragging along the skin and making her mew with contentment.

"Definitely not." She growls into her ear, "If I have anything to do with it."

"Is that you or your wolf talking?" Rachel's voice is a mere whisper, "Because if it's you..."

"If it's me...?" She asks, nose brushing against the shell of her girlfriend's ear, tongue darting out to flick at her earlobe. Rachel jolts in her seat, and both hands shoot down and clasp on the edge of the bench, grasping hard for some sort of leverage.

"Quinn..."

And she smells it. It's heady and musky and so unbelievably pure, "Holy..." And Rachel moans, tilting her head back, taken away with the need that her body exudes to care that they're in a packed cafeteria. Quinn is licking and biting at her neck; smelling that scent that she knows she's giving off to let her know what she's doing to her.

Quinn is literally biting down on her neck, sucking hard and laving the skin with hot flicks of her tongue. It's intoxication, and she doesn't want to stop because her body needs her girlfriend, needs to be touched, loved and pleasured. So she raises a hand and grips hard onto her girlfriend's thick blonde mane and holds her there, unwilling to let her move an inch.

But Quinn's determination to hold back is quickly disappearing because that smell is so intoxicating and Rachel's skin tastes so deliciously perfect. So she grips at the hand in her hair and pulls up, dragging Rachel along with her.

"Quinn..." She hears gasped behind her, because they both know what they're doing, but Quinn just rounds on her with flicking golden hazel eyes, growls and she nearly fucking comes where she stands.

–

It's heavy, it's passionate, it's brutal. Quinn has her pinned up against a whiteboard in an abandoned classroom. Her legs are wrapped tightly around a strong waist, hands clasped in a death vice grip on shoulders that quiver with passion and their mouths work together like they were made for the job.

Quinn is growling, she's moaning, and hot tongues collide against one another in a dance that could leave anyone quivering. One of Quinn's hands is already up inside her sweater, clawing at her abs, marking them in a silent declaration that just screams 'mine' and their conversation earlier in the week just comes rearing to ahead.

She was Quinn's, she will _always_ be Quinn's.

So when her werewolf girlfriend's hand moves up and rips down the cup that supports her breast, she allows Quinn to take what she needs, what she wants, what they both need. Two fingers pinch, roll and twist, and her eyes just slam shut, head slamming back against a whiteboard that threatens to snap in two under the pressure of their heated bodies.

She's in fucking heaven, but then Quinn's mouth is moving away from hers, down her throat, sucking at skin that's scorching and heated as the hand against her breast disconnects and pushes up the sweater.

She's exposed, and the only thing that covers her chest is up against her neck, and anyone could walk in, but then that fucking hot mouth is on her nipple and she just squeals because Quinn has a mouth that could make an angel cry. It teases her and plays her like an instrument; an instrument made just for Quinn. Her back arches, she tries to push her breast further into that mouth, and Quinn let's her, sucking, biting, licking.

Her hips instinctively move up and down in an hypnotic trance against Quinn's abs that are hard and strong from months of vigorous training. She feels them through the thin material of her shirt, and her own skirt does wonders for the almost skin on skin contact.

Wet panties ride up against a pale blue shirt, dragging and pulling, grinding down hard against muscle and bone. It's fucking miraculous, and when Quinn all but howls against her chest, because yes, she's felt it, she's felt that moisture that plagues her girlfriend's panties and marks her shirt. She knows the effect she's having and it just makes her bite down hard on a sensitive pebbled nipple.

Her clit is hard against the cotton of her panties, white, how cliché regarding the situation and Quinn can't help but chuckle when she catches a flash as she looks down, pulling back fully to just watch Rachel ride her stomach like her life depends on it.

Hazy brown eyes lock on hers, hair messed, forehead painted with sweat, mouth agape, pants of breath, gasps of air when Quinn rocks forward, adding to the contact. She's going crazy, watching her just work herself into a climax, and she wants to do it herself; her fingers itch to touch skin and make it squirm, to make Rachel scream her fucking name and no one else's.

But she's holding on tight to strong hips, and she feels those strong thighs clench around her like a lifeline. The pressure between her own legs is torturous, and her wolf is all but screaming in her head to do it, to do it now and never look back, and it kills her, but she just continues to watch, mouth open and coaxing her girlfriend on.

"Are you going to come, Rach...?"

But Rachel can't talk; words are fleeting and distant. She can't grasp them no matter how hard she tries. All she can focus on is those golden eyes that burrow into her soul, the way her clit skids across the rough material of Quinn's shirt, the way her pussy just clenches and begs Rachel to come.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful, so hot...so wet..."

The blonde's voice is threatening to throw her off an edge that's she barely hanging onto. She shouldn't be doing this at school, in a classroom, in public; it should be in the privacy of her bedroom, in the haze of moonlight and romance, but she's needed it for too long and her mind is going to fucking explode if she just doesn't _come._

And she's gasping, hips jerky against Quinn's stomach, and she feels herself clench, and her clit twitch, and she's on the precipice of something so undeniably perfect. So she shoots forward and wraps her arms tightly around Quinn's neck, grinding down hard and fast and fuck it's almost there...

The bell shrills like a wake up call, and Rachel feels Quinn's stomach twitch at the intrusion, and it's all she needs because that white hot rush just engulfs her own body. Her mouth opens wide and silently she screams, face to the ceiling, thanking every God there is because Quinn Fabray finally made her come.

She collapses against her girlfriend, sweaty, sated, gasping for air. She feels the tension in Quinn's body as her fingertips ghost her neck, and she knows that she didn't come, and her wolf is just a second away from snapping, so she unwraps her legs and shakily steps back down onto the floor.

Quinn's whole body is shaking, and she's trying to contain herself. It's hard, oh God it's so hard and she doesn't think she can do it. And Rachel still smells so fucking perfect, so hot and musky and the smell of sex fills the air. She's about to pounce, not caring that her girlfriend has already adjusted herself as students walk past an open door, but then Rachel is cupping her face, a thumb brushing along a quivering bottom lip and gentle kisses being dotted to a sweating forehead.

"Are you okay...?"

Quinn just bites down on her bottom lip because she's not. Her wolf is angry, enraged that Quinn wouldn't take what the wolf wanted, what they both wanted and it's snarling at her, spitting and angry, and she's terrified. She needs to go home, she needs to calm down, she needs to talk to...

"I will..." She finally whispers, hoarse and husky. And Rachel smiles, kissing Quinn softly with such delicacy that it makes the blonde melt. "I'll be fine."

"Should we talk about?" Rachel asks, breathing still not even.

"Well, did you enjoy it?"

Rachel's smirk is an answer enough for her.

–

The reception was a lot better than she first thought. She half expected her to slam the door in her face, to send her away and not offer her assistance. But she saw those flickering hazel eyes and just _knew._ Hence why she's sat in Alfred and Cybil Noble's living room with no gun pointed to her forehead.

"Alfred's in bed." Cybil says as she enters the living room, holding a tea tray that looks all too heavy for her, so Quinn helps, and with a small smile, the older woman accepts, watching like a hawk as Quinn settles the tray down on the coffee table. "Although his wolf is strong, it takes him a little longer to heal than when he was younger, so he's sleeping it off."

Quinn sighs, fists clenched in her lap, "I can't apologize enough.."

"I will admit that I was incredibly angry with you, but my husband has been in far dire straights and honestly, it was his fault."

Her mouth gapes. "E-Excuse me...?"

Cybil chuckles heartily, "Quinn, you're an Alpha. My husband has spent too much time thinking that he's the strongest in Lima and he forgot that when he was training you. He should have realized that arguing with an Alpha in wolf society is the biggest no no anyone could commit."

"But he...bowed down to me and I still went for him..."

"He overstepped his bounds, you were only making sure he knew his place." Then she smiles, "We both understand that. I understand that, Alfred understands that. Why do you think your parents didn't reprimand you? You were in the right."

How is that even right? How is it right to almost kill someone because they forget for a second that they're dealing with an Alpha? It's not. It's not right and because of her and her Alpha blood a man that only wanted her to control her urges could have died.

"It's still inexcusable."

"Quinn..." Cybil pours herself and the blonde girl a drink, "You need to realize that as an Alpha, you need to put other wolves below you in their place. That's how the hierarchy works; it's there for a reason."

"It sucks."

And Cybil chortles around her teacup, "That it does, but it has to be done. Even though your human side sees it as a bad thing, your wolf side was only doing what it was programmed to do. Prove itself as a leader. You're a leader, Quinn."

She is. She's a leader, she's an Alpha, she's suppose to be that strong wolf that everyone looks up to and inspires to be. She's suppose to be the wolf that puts others in their place. Her wolf feels pride at the compliment, but it doesn't make her human side feel any better at putting Alfred in a bed to heal.

"But I don't think that's why you're here talking to me, is it?" To say she's a human, she seems to know everything Quinn's feeling. It's like after all those years with Alfred, she's managed to hone in some powers of her own, that or she's been around for so long that she just knows when someone is keeping something back.

"My urges got out of control today." She sips at her tea and puts it back down on the metal tray gently, "Like...really out of control."

"How so...?"

"Well...uhm..." My God, she can't even say it. She pulls at her shirt and glances down, hinting desperately at Cybil to look down too. So when the older woman does, realization dawns.

"Oh...right..." Cybil clears her throat and takes another sip of her drink, "And she was the only one to..." She waves her free hand, because even though she's obviously had sex, because seriously, even though she's had kids, she doesn't really want to say it out loud.

"Yeah...yeah she was."

"Right." She puts her cup down and sighs, "And what was the problem? Did you want to go further?"

"Well yeah but..." This is beyond embarrassing, "I had a pretty good control, I was content to just...you know...let it happen, but afterwards when she was finished and I could hear my wolf again, it was snarling at me. At _me!"_

"Ah." The older woman nods to herself, "Your wolf is beginning to feel as if you're not attending to it's needs. You need to find a balance; one that sates your wolf and your human side. It's hard, but there's always a balance."

"Did Alfred have to do that?"

The woman chuckles and drifts a hand through snowy white hair, "Like you wouldn't believe. Even when he was wolf, he would show signs that he wanted me. But that's a line you just don't cross."

Personal reminder: She needed to bleach her brain when she got home.

"But the thing is, Quinn, there's always a balance. Experiment, see what makes the both of you happy, wolf and you. As well as Rachel, because after all, she's along for the ride."

Quinn chuckles, "Yeah...she definitely is. But it's getting harder for her too, apparently my aphrodisiac is driving her crazy. She's finding it harder to control herself."

"Those darn aphrodisiacs." Cybil shakes her head mockingly, "They were glorious but torturous all in one."

"How...can she deal with them?"

The older woman smiles, "Send her to me. I'll tutor her."

"Wait...what?"

"If you expect her to be with you Quinn, she'll need to know how to deal with her urges too. Remember that."

"Yeah...I guess so..."

Then Cybil's just watching her, eyes narrowed in contemplation, so she fills the awkward silence by drinking the rest of her tea, keeping her eyes glued to the bottom of the expensive looking china. When she's drained it though, Cybil is still watching her, and her wolf is agitated so she just asks bluntly, "What?" And the older woman just smiles.

–

Although she doesn't want to go, she tries to make herself look presentable in a dark blue polka-dot dress, hair in gentle curls that brush over her shoulders, light make up that isn't too much but not too little. The necklace around her neck with a silver Q glints in the light of her bedroom, and she smiles, fingering the metal.

She hadn't seen Quinn since their...well...her situation in the classroom. She hadn't meant for it to get out of hand so quickly and so rapidly, but the aphrodisiac that Quinn kept on giving off was just undeniably intoxicating. She needed more of it, and fast, and she got it whenever she ground down upon Quinn's stomach.

Her stomach still flips at the memory, and she can't help but relieve the short twenty minute memory over and over again. It wasn't romantic, or anything like she imagined, but it was primal, and urgent and...my God she just felt like she was needed and...

"Honey. Your father is here!"

Rachel sighs and drops her hand back down to her side, "Coming."

–

The car ride is unbearable. She's sat in the back, Leroy in the front seat and Michael beside him. It couldn't be more symbolic if they tried. She's sat in the back, alone and forgotten while Leroy moves forward with a new man beside him. It makes her feel sick, and when she watches them clasp hands over the gear stick, she just silently scoffs and looks out the window.

She wants to try, my God she does, but she just can't.

–

Even though her dad has a lot of money, they've gone to Breadstix. _Breadstix_. She can't help but roll her eyes as she slides into the booth that an elderly 'I can't be assed to be here' waitress guides them to.

"So..." Leroy says, bouncing slightly in his seat as he picks up his menu, "How's everyone?"

Michael Hunter, a man in his mid forties with blonde hair, grey at the temples and shining green eyes just smiles at Leroy, "Great!" Then he turns is attention to Rachel and hesitantly he asks, "Rachel...? You okay?" He sounds so sickeningly nurturing, like he wants to know how she feels, like he's her dad...

"Fine." She notes his strong chiselled jaw clenches when she grinds the word out between her own teeth. But Leroy feigns indifference and looks at his menu, but still glances occasionally at her from above it. It's driving her crazy; it's like he's inspecting her, and their hands are still clasped on the top of the table like it's okay that they cheated, that they're together while Hiram is sat at home probably crying because he knows everything is a lost cause.

They order, and the only people that talk is Michael and Leroy. She watches them, playing with the rim of her water glass just so her hands have something to do because they're being all cuddly, and she can't help but think that this should be a family meal, with Hiram instead of Michael. Leroy should be playing with Hiram's hair, not Michael's, should be laughing at Hiram's jokes, not Michael's.

But her dad isn't here and only a blonde haired cheater is instead.

"Do you want a refill baby...?" Leroy asks, watching her as she all but drains her glass.

"Don't call me that." Then she raises her hand, flags down their waiter and says, "Could I get a refill, please? Thank you so much." Her voice changes from hard and indifferent to sweet and content just like it is usually with Quinn and she couldn't care less if Leroy looks hurt.

But Michael clutches his hand tighter on top of the table, and her eyes shoot to them, "Can you stop that...? I know you're together but you don't really need to shove it in my face. It's rude and inappropriate."

"Rachel..."

"No. It is." She shakes her head, "I know you two are together, I understand that and I know I can't change that. How your relationship came along is disgusting, but once again, I can't change that." She looks to her father's companion, "Michael, I understand that you've left your wife and two children for Leroy. That must prove that you really do like him, and for that I'm happy, but I can't accept it. I don't understand how you can sit there, happy, holding his hand when your wife is devastated and your kids are without a father and a stable home."

She leans back in her seat and takes the drink that the waitress hands to her, "I'll sit here and play along, because after all, Leroy just wants us to be a family again, but I refuse to not acknowledge the fact that the other half of my family is sat at home alone, heartbroken because his husband obviously thought he wasn't good enough. I won't sit here and pretend that everything is okay. I won't sit here and watch you hold hands and banter when it just hurts me that much more. I know you're trying to act casually and normally in front of me because you don't want to treat me like a child, but please, it's just _too _soon."

And she downs the whole glass of water while Leroy gapes, and only when Michael pulls his hand slowly from his gasp, does he excuse himself to use the restroom.

–

_**How's dinner going?**_

_Disaster._

_**That good, huh?**_

_You have no idea. I'm sat in front of Michael right now and he just keeps looking everywhere but me._

_**He's obviously uncomfortable, baby.**_

_He deserves to feel uncomfortable._

_**Don't you think he's had enough with what I did to him...?**_

_I know but...I just hate the fact that he's the one that took Leroy from my dad..._

_**I understand.**_

_Yeah...anyway, where did you disappear to after lunch? I didn't see you at Glee._

_**Oh, yeah I went to go see Alfred's wife. I needed to talk about what...we did...you know.**_

_Quinn, are you blushing?_

_**I hate you. No, I just, she asked me how it was for my wolf and how you dealt with it.**_

_I dealt with it rather spectacularly if I remember correctly ;)_

_**Easy tiger. She just offered me advice and she thinks that you should go to her for help.**_

_What for...? Why do I need help?_

_**For the aphrodisiac effects. She's not a werewolf, so she's had to deal with it before. She can help you so we don't jump each other when it all gets too steamy.**_

_But your wolf was fine, wasn't it?_

_**I kind of...well, my wolf started snarling at me.**_

_What does that even mean?_

_Keep texting me, my dad just came back, so I'll reply slow._

_**Okay. Well, I was worried my wolf was starting to hate me for not letting it have what it wanted, so I went to Cybil and she said that I need to find a balance, to sate my wolf and my human side.**_

_**Then she told me about tutoring for you, because obviously with what happened at lunch, it's getting out of control for you too. I mean...you were pretty much grinding against my stomach.**_

_Do you mind? I'm sat in front of Leroy._

_**Haha. Sorry, baby.**_

_It's fine. I'll think about the tutoring okay? I just have a lot going on right now with him and my dad._

_**It's okay, take your time. Anyway, I'll leave you to dinner. Try not to kill anyone with a butter knife.**_

_I make no promises. I miss you xxx_

_**I...yeah, I miss you too xxx**_

–

"_What...?"_

_The older woman smiles and pats the space beside her, which Quinn takes with a slight hesitation in her steps. Cybil takes her hands, clasps them gently and says, "What do you believe an urge to mean?"_

"_Uhm..." Quinn's brow scrunches as she thinks, "The overwhelming need to be around that person, to talk to them, to touch them, to kiss them, to just be with them."_

"_Do you know why werewolves call it an urge?"_

"_I...wouldn't know."_

"_Well, werewolves believe that humans and werewolves feel different things. Obviously, a werewolf can't communicate because they can't talk unless they can hear one another's thoughts. So they show their emotions, their compassion, their kindness, their needs, through their urges. Do you know what I'm saying...?"_

"_Not...really..."_

_Cybil smiles and shakes her head, "A human can say things to express how they feel. They have a whole vocabulary at their disposal. A werewolf uses their pheromones, something they only give off for someone special. Humans say their words."_

_Realization dawns upon Quinn and she pulls her hands back slowly. It was there, right before her eyes all along and she never really grasped the reality of the situation. Her urges were there for a reason. There was a reason she never urged or looked at anyone else. There was a reason that Rachel Barbra Berry was the only one she ever wanted to be with._

"_I..."_

"_Have you told her?"_


	6. Brightness & Darkness

It's a disaster. The rest of dinner that is. Leroy comes back from the restroom with swollen and red eyes, and Michael looks everywhere that isn't her. She doesn't mind though, because he always has this look of 'I'm sorry for everything' in his eyes and it just drives her crazy. No matter what he says, or what he tries to convey, it'll just be the same. He'd have still dropped his pants at Leroy's say so, and they still would have cheated for God knows how long. It'd have still happened.

So when Michael keeps laughing at whatever Leroy says and sees that love in their eyes, she just stabs her food with her fork. This wasn't how it was suppose to be. Michael should be at home with his wife and two kids, screwing up someone else's marriage. Leroy should still be with her dad. They should still be with a family.

But they're not. So when they ask for the check and Michael kisses Leroy and says 'I'll pay' she sees red. They're trying to make a new family, a family with her in it, but that she doesn't belong in.

She'll never belong, no matter how hard they try.

–

Michael actually gets out of the car and walks her to the door, knowing full well that Hiram is stood right on the other side. He doesn't seem fazed, because after all, he was the one that worked on him in surgery.

Under the porch light the scars on his neck and arms seem more macabre than in bright harsh light. The scars on his neck especially, they're jagged, haphazard, and for a second just wants to ask, "Did it hurt?"

"Yes it did."

Her eyes snap open, and they lock on his, "It hurt a lot, but in a way, I deserved it."

She doesn't say anything, because she knows she'll say yes, he deserved to feel that pain for what he did. He ripped apart two families and shows no remorse for it. But she keeps her mouth shut and continues to examine his scars, knowing that each and everyone of them were given to him by her girlfriend, her protector, her wolf in a fit of rage.

It's terrifying really, to see what Quinn can really do, Alpha or not. Her brute strength is remarkable, but spine chilling at the same time. Her fingers itch to touch the long jagged scar on his forearm, and he sees her looking at it, so he extends is arm, just for the invitation.

She doesn't take it.

But he leaves his arm out for her to examine. She's shocked that he doesn't hide the marks and scars, it's almost like he knows he's going to be stuck with them, so why hide them? Part of her is astonished, the other part is sick. She doesn't understand how he can act so proud of them; he didn't receive them from saving a life in a war, he didn't receive them from protecting his kids. He got them from ending two marriages. He got them for wanting to be...happy.

"I know you probably hate me for hurting you and you dad, and for that, I'm so sorry. I know I can never really receive your forgiveness, but I'll work everyday, just in case." He shrugs and smiles gently, "Just in case you change your mind."

–

Hiram holds her as she cries. She's collapsed by the still open front door, arms wrapped around her father, him rocking her back on forth, the palms of his hands rubbing soothing patterns on her back. He's dying to ask her what's wrong, what Leroy and Michael had said, how dinner went, but he can't.

He can't open his mouth because he'll know he'll just fall apart like his daughter. He's barely holding it together as it is, and he has to be the strong one now. He can't collapse against his husband whenever things get too hard. He can't sob and hear a robust but soothing voice in his ear.

He has to deal with his broken child and he doesn't know how.

–

She wakes up on the couch, Hiram curled up on the arm chair to her left. He looks so unbelievably uncomfortable, but it makes her smile. He didn't want to leave her alone, he didn't want to look like he'd just disappeared like Leroy.

Hiram stirs when she gets up off the couch, and his eyes are barely open when she presses a kiss to his forehead. "Go to bed." She whispers and she helps him, and even tucks him into bed.

They have to help one another. That's all they can do.

–

School is becoming a chore, which is infuriating, because it never was before. The thought of sitting down in class and trying to learn just makes her want to turn around and go back home. She wants to be at home, trying to fix the things that are going wrong in her life.

The only good thing about school is, "Hey baby..." And there it is, with arms wrapping around her waist from behind a soft kiss being placed on her ear. She melts into the touch and the crack of a smile appears on her lips. "You okay?"

She sighs through a shudder, "It could have been better." It's non-committal, and Quinn understands immediately because she doesn't ask again. Instead she turns the singer and smiles down at her, "Hey."

Quinn leans down and bumps her nose against her girlfriend's, "Hey right back. Don't wanna talk about it?"

"No..." She shakes her head but it makes her giggle when Quinn scrunches up her nose because their noses are still that close together, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Quinn whispers, barely heard over the sound of the students that stand around them. "Your eyes are all red."

Rachel sighs and drops her head to Quinn's chest, rubbing her forehead against the soft material of the blonde's zip up grey hoodie. It's a hoodie she's always wanted to steal from her girlfriend, and she's still trying to think of a way to do it. She just wants to wrap herself in it and fall asleep to the smell of Quinn when she can't be there.

"As you can probably guess, I've been crying."

Quinn silent for moment, and Rachel thinks she's said something wrong, but then Quinn dots a kiss to the top of her head and whispers against thick brown locks, "I don't like how much you've been crying recently. These past few months all you've done is cry."

It pisses her off a little, even though she knows that Quinn is right on the money, "I can't really help it. We all can't have a perfect family life like yours, Quinn."

She feels Quinn's arms tense around her waist, and she shuts her eyes for the argument that's about to happen, but nothing comes. They're just stood there, in silence, those strong arms still tense around her waist. "I know."

Her eyes open slowly, because she really wasn't expecting that, "I didn't mean to say that." She apologizes anyway, because she knows that it's not all sunshine and rainbows at Quinn's house. She's stuck in a family hierarchy where she's still at the bottom but is also at the top at the same time. The confliction alone would drive anyone crazy.

"I know. You're under a lot of pressure, it's understandable." Then she pauses, "How did dinner go? Or shouldn't I ask?"

Rachel's eyes flicker from Quinn's left to right, taking in those shining hazel eyes that somehow swirl with gold somehow, "Why are your eyes like your wolf?"

"What?" Quinn frowns, glancing at the mirror stuck on her girlfriend's locker door, "Oh. It just does that sometimes when I'm pent up."

"Pent up?" She asks with a frown. "Are you mad?"

Quinn chuckles and shakes her head, "The opposite actually. When I feel extreme emotion, my eyes do this."

"So you're happy that I'm upset?"

"Baby, no." She tightens her arms and pulls the singer closer, "I'm not happy that you're upset. I'm pissed that you're upset and I wanna find a way to make you happy but...you know how my wolf can be."

"It wants to lash out?" Rachel whispers, pressing her forehead to Quinn's lips. She feels Quinn frown against her forehead, "Please don't."

"I'm not going to lash out. Remember, I'm still trying to get over what happened in the classroom."

What...? She looks up and stares, then her mouth opens, "Oh."

"Uh-huh." Quinn nods and pulls her back again, "So don't look at me or I might do something that'll scar the student body for the rest of their lives."

Scar...body...

She pulls back and turns around to face her locker, picking up books that she doesn't really need and flicking through them. "Baby...?" It sounds so distant behind her, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip, thumb continuing to flick through a book on Algebra. She reads Math problems, somehow hoping to get the flashes of Michael Hunter's scars from her mind. That long jagged scar on his arm, the long rip across his throat.

Quinn presses her hand to her shoulder and she jumps, book falling to the floor. She mutters under her breath, and feels Quinn beside her as she leans down also. "What's wrong?" She whispers, standing up when Rachel finally has a grip on that damn book. "Did I say something?"

"No..." Rachel shakes her head, "It's nothing." Then bell shrills through the hallway and she glances at Quinn who hasn't moved from her spot, "We'll be late for class."

They continue to stare before eventually, Rachel peels away, trying not to run down the hall to her class.

–

_**Will you tell me what I said to make you act like that?**_

Her phone feels like a lead weight on her lap, and she's been avoiding the same text for almost three hours. She avoided going to lunch, instead taking the time to sit in her car and just mope in the back seat, because if she sees those golden hazel eyes, she'll just be reminded of the scar that she almost touched the night before.

Her mind just keeps flashing back to Michael's attack and what could have happened. She imagines herself stood at the bottom of his drive, watching him as he gets out of the car with a content smile on his face. She imagines him turning to lock the door, then out of nowhere a golden blur shoots across her vision and pins him to the car.

She wants to shut her eyes, but she can't. It's like her body wants her to watch. So she does. She watches as Michael falls to the floor, a wolf double his size on top of him, ripping at his arms to protect his already bleeding throat. She watches blood pool on the ground. She listens to him scream for help.

She feels so sick, and when she reads the text back over, she deletes it and shoves her phone into her bag.

–

Glee is uncomfortable. Quinn was already in the choir room by the time she arrived, and the look of elation in her the girl's eyes made her almost cry. She'd patted the seat beside her in a silent invitation, but Rachel ignored it to sit down beside Finn who was in the middle of flicking drumsticks between his fingers.

"You okay?" He asks minutes later, because he honestly didn't know what to say.

"I'm fine..." She sounds so weak, and his heart breaks silently as he watches her wring her hands in her lap. His eyes flick to Quinn, who's watching with pure hatred in her eyes and it clicks.

"Did you and Quinn fight?"

"No, why?" Rachel asks, finally looking up at Finn.

"She looks like she wants to commit murder."

She glances at Quinn in the corner of her eyes, and she sees those golden eyes swirling with a hidden danger and she just shudders.

–

Her avoidance time with Quinn is slipping into the danger zone. She had only just managed to leave the choir room with a second to spare of Quinn catching up to, although she wants to talk to Mr. Schue about the song choices for Sectionals.

The whole club had decided that seen as though it was Senior Year, they wouldn't fight over solo's anymore. The person with the best voice, the one person that was a show stopper would receive it. And naturally, that was Rachel. It was enough to make her smile, but she didn't want to take all the glory. So she decided to duet with Kurt, who just put a hand to his chest and looked like he would cry. They had become such good friends over the passing year, and it would be a crime not to share that glory with him.

So it was decided; a duet with Kurt and a big group number that would have the crowd on it's feet. And although she desperately wanted to speak to the Glee Club co-ordinator, she simply dashed out because she could feel Quinn behind her, silently begging to talk.

She had just pulled out of her parking spot when she saw Quinn behind the car, barely an inch away from the back bumper. They stared at one another through the rear-view mirror and she could see those golden hazel eyes again, and she just sped off.

–

_Why are you running away from me? What have I done wrong?_

Her iPhone remains silent by her plate, which was still filled with a banquet that her mother had made only minutes before. It's a shock to say the least, when Judy looks up from her own plate to her daughter's to see it was full.

"Are you okay, honey?" But Quinn doesn't reply, and she follows her daughter's eyes to see them locked on her phone, "Have you and Rachel had a falling out? Your thoughts are all over the place."

Quinn frowns, "Don't read my thoughts, mom. I don't do it to you, so don't do it to me."

Russell's eyes snap up and lock on his daughter, "Apologize."

The younger Fabray growls and throws her knife and fork down onto her plate, "No. Why should I? You're always listening to my thoughts! I never read yours so why should you read mine?"

"Go to your room." Russell commands through a growl, and the tension in the air is thick as they stare at one another, and Judy's honestly terrified because she heard the bones in Quinn's left hand crack. "Now."

She gets up and pockets her phone, "Fine." Her parting offer to her parents is her plate thrown against the wall, and she barely hears Russell shouting at her when she closes her bedroom door.

–

"You have been arguing with your parents," Alfred mumbles from his bed, pulling off his reading glasses. He's not bedridden and he's not injured anymore, but the ache from the fight still plagues his aged body.

"Yeah..." Quinn mumbles, playing with the lamp on Alfred's bedside table. It's a touch operated one, and she finds solitude in just tapping it on and off, "Things are just getting stressful."

"Apparently you lashed out because your mother tried to listen in on your thoughts." He watches her continue to tap the lamp, "Why did you lash out because of that? They are your parents after all."

"I was just having a stressful day. I didn't need my mom trying to listen in on what I was thinking. I don't even know what _I'm _thinking right now."

Alfred frowns and rests his hand over Quinn's, the lamp remains on even though it's still early in the morning and the sun shines brighter than it ever has in his bedroom.

"Is that why you're here and not at school?"

Quinn just shrugs, eyes still pinned to the lamp. It's nothing special, just a golden base and a floral glass shade. She just doesn't know what to think. She doesn't want to go to school because another day of Rachel avoiding her like she's the plague just hurts her too much. She doesn't want to watch Rachel take that spot beside Finn instead of next to her. She doesn't want to see that look in Rachel's eye whenever they lock on one another. And she really doesn't want to sit around at school wishing she would text her back.

She'd called all last night while up in her room, leaving voice message after voice message, text after text, missed call after missed call. She even tried the Berry's home phone, but it was always engaged. Either Rachel took it off the hook or Hiram Berry talks like there's no tomorrow.

"I just don't know what I've done. I was talking to Rachel yesterday morning and we were fine...then all of a sudden she was cold with me and she kept avoiding me all day. She didn't even sit next to me in Glee Club."

Alfred nodded, "And you said nothing to warrant the attitude change?"

"Well I didn't say anything I usually wouldn't say. Especially with the fact we've been...you know..." She nods her head with eyes wide, trying to get her point across, but he seems more lost than ever, "Exploring a bit more." It finally dawns on him, thank fuck. "So what I usually say...you know...it doesn't terrify her or anything."

"What did you say exactly?"

"Hell if I know." Quinn sighs, slumping back in her seat, "I just remember saying I'd..." Then she pauses, "Okay, this is really embarrassing. I can't say it out loud."

He smirks lightly, _then let me hear it._

Quinn sighs to herself and opens her mind to Alfred. It's almost as if she can feel him shifting around in there, trying to find that memory, trying to find that conversation. His brows furrow when he's found it and he listens.

"_So don't look at me or I might do something that'll scar the student body for the rest of their lives."_

They both hear it and almost like clockwork, at the same time it dawns on them.

"Fuck. She went to dinner with Michael the night before."

"Is she still scared of your wolf?"

"I didn't think she was..." She feels like such an asshole. How could she openly say body and scar in the same sentence without it having some sort of repercussion. Rachel naturally became terrified, and mixed with the golden flicker in her eyes that she gets when she feels extreme emotion, it was a given that Rachel thought she would go after her.

"Quinn, you have to be strong right now. Go over there after school and talk to her."

"What if she doesn't even let me in?"

Alfred smiles, "Then give her this address."

–

She's prowling the backyard when she hears the tell-tale signs of a Focus engine. It purrs to a stop on the other side of the house and she calmly waits, ears pricked up and cataloguing each step that her girlfriend takes. It was a spur of the moment decision to appear as a wolf, because she just needs to see that look in Rachel's eyes when she sees her.

She needs to see if she's terrified, or if she's okay with her being there. She needs to know that Rachel trusts her, regardless of the form she's in. She needs to prove to Rachel that she can turn into Quinn whenever she wants, and not even her Alpha wolf can stop her.

The bedroom window slides open, and the blinds clatter noisily against the window frame. So she huffs and gets up from her lying position; her wolf is slightly scared for some reason, and it unnerves her. It's like it knows that if Rachel isn't fine with it, Rachel won't be there anymore, and the one it pines for and urges for won't be there to touch or smell or taste anymore.

It howls desperately, almost like a whine, and she can't remember doing it. But even to her, it sounds heartbreaking. She does it for what seems like hours, but can only be seconds before blinds are pulled up and a head is popping out.

Brown eyes land on the golden wolf in the backyard and they remain locked. The wolf looks so distraught, ears flattened to it's skull, eyes wide, almost like puppy dog eyes, mouth open slightly to let out a gentle whine.

"Quinn..." Rachel whispers rubbing a hand down her face, "Please go...you could be seen by anyone."

Rachel moves to close the blinds again, but then she sees it. The wolf's body contorts; that long snout pushing back into her face, that fur disappears almost instantly, and she hears bones crack and snap. Rough skin is replaced by soft pale skin and luscious blonde hair returns to a head that still continues to morph into shape. Then those hazel eyes are there, and those lips that she loves to kiss, and that cute little nose that scrunches up whenever she kisses it.

She's so utterly enthralled it sends a shudder down her spine, but she can't help but watch as the outline of a wolf slowly begins to disappear only to show a naked blonde sat with her knees up to her chest.

She can't speak, but Quinn can, "I just wanted to show you that."

"Why?" Her voice sounds so weak.

"Because me and my wolf are the same person. We're not two different entities. When I'm my wolf I still have the thoughts and memories of my human side. That'll never change."

"Okay..."

It's not enough. It's so not enough but she can't push her girlfriend any further. She's already seen enough to think about, so she just climbs to her feet, hardly caring that she's still as naked as she was the day she was born and looks up.

"237 Essex Drive. That's where Alfred and Cybil Noble live if you ever need help."

"With what...?"

Quinn smiles sadly, moisture rushing up to her eyes, "With the fact I still terrify you."

–

Their relationship is on a temporary hiatus. Well, that's how Quinn sees it. They talk to one another in school, but only if they have to, and if they do speak, it's just to talk about Glee or what homework was given in their shared class. They didn't kiss anymore, or give any longing stares across the class. They didn't tribute a song to one another in Glee anymore, and they certainly didn't sit next to one another.

Quinn couldn't tell if Rachel had gone to Alfred's house or not, and she so desperately wanted to ask, but that would be breeching their unspoken rule. They needed time apart. They needed time to think.

Rachel sits by Finn again in Glee Club though, and they talk and laugh like nothing is wrong. Santana smirks at Quinn from where she's sat two seats down, and she just ignores it. She knows that Santana wants her to say 'you were right all along' or 'please be my friend again' instead she just steels her jaw and stares at the front of the classroom.

When she hears Rachel giggle though, she just shatters.

–

"Dad?" They haven't spoken since the bust up at dinner, and he doesn't even look at her when she opens his office door. He continues to scribble away on his papers. "Can we hunt?"

He looks up at her then, sees her eyes, red and swollen and sighs. "I'll be right out."

She nods numbly and shuts the door behind her quietly.

–

"Mom...?" Judy looks up from her book and looks at her daughter, "I'm sorry."

"Just because you're an Alpha, Quinn, doesn't mean that you rule this household. And just because you're having troubles doesn't mean you should take it out on the people who care for you."

"I know..."

"As long as you know that."

–

Quinn rips a deer to shreds before it even has the chance to think about running away. She rips it to shreds and it feels so liberating. She knows her father is watching her, watching her take that deer by its neck and flick it from side to side almost as if it was a pillow, and when she hears the snap of its neck and its blood curdling cries stop, she drops it to the ground.

_Feel better...?_

Her wolf simply huffs and leans down to chow down. It's ravenous. It hasn't hunted for a meal in so long, so when she tastes that bloody flesh on the tip of her tongue for the first time in what feels like years, she feels elation.

_If you ever raise your voice like that your mother again, I'll have you._

She pauses mid chew, stands to full size and looks over to her father, who's sat on his rump, staring at her with clouded eyes.

_I know..._

–

"Is Quinn still coming to dinner tomorrow?"

Rachel's fingers stop mid-type; she was just in the middle of uploading her new MySpace video, something she hadn't done in over half a year when her father walked in and asked that one simple question.

"I don't know."

Hiram frowns, "She's cancelled again?"

Rachel shrugs.

"What? Does she think I'm going to bite or something?"

She chuckles bitterly, because it's not him that might bite.

–

Dinner doesn't go ahead and the night it's suppose to happen, Quinn sits in the park, in wolf form, right by the swings. Her nose snuffs the dirt gently; Rachel hasn't been here, she hasn't been here for a while now, and she knew that since she'd reached smelling distance of the place.

She knew Rachel hadn't been to the park, she knew Rachel wasn't _at _the park, but she still goes, and she still sits, and she still smells the dirt, trying to get at least a tiny bit of Rachel's scent into her snout.

She gives up after ten minutes, because no matter how hard she tries, that scent she needs just isn't there.

Her wolf stays there all night, howling into the wind in pure mourning.

–

They don't speak until Sectionals. They're backstage. Quinn is getting read for the group number after Rachel and Kurt's duet of For Good when they finally do speak. Rachel is about to go on stage, and she's adjusting her green dress, fitting for her lead in the song, when Quinn walks up to her and just says;

"Break a leg."

Rachel seems shocked at first; at the fact that Quinn had actually spoken to her after a whole month of silence, but then she just nods, "Thank you."

She luxuriates in the scent while she still has the chance to smell it, but then it's gone because Rachel's holding Kurt's hand, and she's being pulled on stage by the excited young man.

She just feels like crying.

–

She forgets the choreography mid-song because Rachel brushes by her to get to the front of the stage. Mike notices her stopping mid-step and moves over to her in a wave of elegant dancing to try and cover the fact he's walking away for his mark. She sees him, sees his sad smile and just gulps, because she can't do it anymore. She can't pretend to be happy and sing and dance when everything is just shattering around her.

So she runs off stage.

–

They win, which is a shock. Obviously the judges didn't mind that she'd run off stage, or didn't notice because having twelve kids on stage is enough to look at than a distraught blonde.

Rachel doesn't come to her, although she knows that Rachel found out about her running off stage from Mike. Instead, they share a long look in the waiting area, and their eyes don't pull away until they're called back onto the stage to find out that yes, they'd won.

It's a hollow victory for her, but when Rachel leaps up and down, claps her hands together and looks at Quinn to share that happiness, her smile slips. Because Quinn is just stood there, staring at the stage floor.

–

She takes the bull by its horns and does what she was offered a month ago. She gets in her car and she drives to 237 Essex Drive because she can't deal with the silence any longer. She can't deal with seeing Quinn collapse in on herself. She can't deal with the fact that she's the one making Quinn feel this way; all because she's uncertain about Quinn and the power she possesses.

An old woman opens the door to her and smiles gently, "Can I help you?"

Rachel hesitates at first, because she doesn't really know what to say, but eventually settles on her name. It's safe, it's not too out there.

"Ah. Quinn Fabray's mate. Come in."

Mate? Is that what she was? She had never heard Quinn say such a thing, but for some reason it makes their relationship seem that much more real. But she just feels horrible, because after all the research she had done on werewolves (most of it that Quinn had said was just myths or legends) she should have known about the potential of being Quinn's mate. She should have known that she couldn't be anything less in Quinn's eyes.

She sighs as she sits down, "Can I get you anything?"

She shakes her head, because if she drinks or eats anything she might throw up. She's terrified as it is. She didn't know what to expect when she got here, although she knows that Alfred and Cybil Noble are the sweetest people you could ever meet from what she heard from Quinn.

"So is there a reason you're here?"

"I was told to come here by Quinn for help..."

"And what help would that be?" She can tell that Cybil knows because of the glint in her eye, and the way she adjusts herself on the couch as if they're going to have a deep meaningful conversation.

"I need help with..." She sighs, "I'm still scared of Quinn's wolf because I've seen the scars she left on Michael's body."

"Michael Hunter." Cybil nods to herself, "And why does it scare you?"

"Because everyone argues. Couples argue all the time. What if I say something wrong and Quinn just snaps, turns into her wolf and just attacks me. What if she can't hold herself back?"

"Who gave you the idea that a wolf attacks its mate?"

Rachel frowns, "Excuse me?"

Cybil sighs, "Sweetie, a wolf can never attack its mate, no matter how hard they try. When two people are mates, they can't physically hurt each other. Take my marriage for example. I was scared of Alfred's wolf at one point or another, but when he told me that it's physically impossible for a wolf to attack or physically hurt it's mate, I began to calm."

She's still confused. Does that means its impossible for Quinn to actually attack her just because she's her mate?

"It's almost as if it's engrained in werewolf DNA. Say you punch Quinn," Rachel gasps and Cybil chuckles gently, "Just an example, sweetie. Say you punch Quinn, what do you think she would do?"

Rachel shrugs her small shoulders softly, "I don't know...hit me back?"

"Impossible. Even as a human she couldn't raise a hand to you. She might lash out and attack an inanimate object like a wall or something, but she would never be able to hit you. It'd hurt her more than it would hurt you. And as an Alpha, she has a reputation she has to uphold. If she happened to hit you, which would never happen, she would be instantly disgraced and ripped of her title. That's how it works in werewolf society."

"So she could...never hurt me?"

Cybil nods, "Yes. She can only hurt other people that threaten either your livelihood or your emotions. Hence why she lashed out at Michael Hunter. She thought she was protecting you, but remember Rachel, she hadn't been trained back then. She was still in the infancy of being an Alpha."

"So she can control herself better now?"

"Much better." Then Cybil chuckles, "I also heard from Quinn you might need help with certain...aphrodisiacs that are beginning to make your life hell."

"Oh my God..." Rachel whispers and leans forward, "She spoke to you about that?"

Cybil chuckles and Rachel is just _mortified_.

–

_I've started getting help..._

_**...What do you mean?**_

_I've started getting help from Cybil. Just like you asked._

_**Oh. Uhm. When did that start?**_

_Today. I just got back._

_**And how did it go...?**_

_It went fine. A little mortifying at times, but fine._

_**Mortifying?**_

_Well at first it was about your wolf, but then she started telling me she was going to tutor me in how to deal with the aphrodisiacs effects on my body._

_**Oh, okay.**_

_Aren't you happy?_

_**Of course I am, I just...don't know what to say to you. We've hardly said two words to each other for a month and we're suppose to be dating.**_

_I did it for a reason, Quinn._

_**I know. **_

_Yeah._

_**Meet me at the park.**_

_Quinn._

_**It's a Saturday, it's not like we have school tomorrow. Please come to the park, I want to see you.**_

_Will you be there or your wolf?_

_**Me**__._

_Okay. I'll be there at eight._

–

Quinn is sat on top of the slide by the time she gets there, which is slightly amusing because her legs reach about three quarters of the way down and it's a little bit too narrow for her hips even though she's skinny as all hell.

The blonde perks up and smiles as she walks toward her, "You came."

"I said I would," Rachel replies, but not unkindly, "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to slide down...but I realized I was too big."

Rachel smiles softly, "It's cuter when your wolf tries to scramble up it."

Quinn's cheeks color with embarrassment, because it is. She still remembers that night vividly, trying with all her might to try and get closer to Rachel, just to feel her warmth and make her feel safe.

"I looked like an oversized rat."

Rachel chuckles and stands at the foot of the slide, one foot up on it, "You almost knocked me off when I finally got you up there."

Quinn's eyes soften, "I'd never let you fall..."

"I know you wouldn't." She looks up to her girlfriend and just takes the blonde in. She truly is beautiful, and those hazel eyes, although they still flicker with gold no longer terrify her. They're beautiful, almost breathtaking. They just show a whole new level that only Rachel is privy to; shows a secret that only she knows. "I guess...we should reschedule that dinner?"

And Quinn smiles, because she knows they're back on the right track, and she makes a mental note to send some fruit basket or something to Cybil Noble because whatever she said saved her relationship. She slides down, coming to a stop just before Rachel's foot, and plants her feet on either side of the slide.

"Wednesday? I need to give my father adequate time to prepare for a guest."

"He doesn't have to do anything fancy for me, Rach." She raises her hands and lets them hover just over Rachel's hips, because she doesn't want to push just yet, she doesn't know if her girlfriend's _that _okay yet. But Rachel smiles, takes her hands and rests them on her hips.

There's that feeling again. Like she's coming home, and her heart skips a beat in her chest because she's finally touching and smelling the one thing she needed in her life this past month through all the training she's been doing with a newly mobile Alfred.

"You don't understand my family do you?" Rachel smirks softly.

"The Berry family always has to do something extravagant even though it's only dinner?"

Rachel chuckles, "Baby, I don't know if you noticed, but my father is gay."

–

"Okay Quinn, I know you have to go out and train with Alfred, but I need you to stay behind for a little while." Cybil plants a kiss to her husband's cheek and smiles, "Go ahead, she'll catch you up."

Alfred's eyes scan his wife's face before smirking, "Try not to kill them both."

Rachel gulps and Quinn tightens the arm around her waist in comfort, "It'll be okay." She whispers gently, pressing a gentle kiss to her girlfriend's ear.

Alfred leaves, and that's when Quinn suddenly gets a little nervous. She knows that Cybil is tutoring Rachel in how to deal with the aphrodisiacs, but she really doesn't want to make the girl rip off her shirt in front of the ageing woman. She'd die of embarrassment. Well, maybe she'd take the time to check out her girlfriend's chest, but _then _she'd die.

They sit on the couch in the living room and Cybil seems to mill around them for a little while. It unnerves Rachel, because she really doesn't know what to expect, so she turns to Quinn to comfort. The blonde is oddly quiet, just leaning back on the couch and flicking through a Reader's Digest that looks about two months out of date.

She watches as nimble fingers flick through the magazine and somehow it manages to calm her. Quinn isn't giving off any aphrodisiacs at the moment, and it's almost like a blessing because the thought of letting herself go sexually in front of an eighty year old woman is just mortifying.

But there's something about Quinn that she can't quite put her finger on. They didn't talk for a whole month, which honestly killed her, because all she wanted to do some nights was curl up to her girlfriend and just cry because Leroy wouldn't stop calling, or kept inviting her out to another dinner to try and 'work things through'. But through that month what shocked her was that Quinn _actually _gave her the space she so desperately sought. But there was something in those longing looks that Quinn gave her, something more than hurt or regret, but something deeper, more intimate.

"Quinn..." She whispers, trying to keep her voice low.

The blonde's eyebrow flicks up, but her eyes continue to read an article, so Rachel knows she has her attention, "Is there something different between us?"

Quinn frowns at that and flips the page, "How do you mean?"

But then Rachel shakes her head at herself, they're fine, they've always been fine, it's just her insecurities, but those looks just hit something deep in the pit of her stomach. It made her feel light, almost as if she was weightless. All that pressure that she constantly felt on her shoulders just seemed to disappear, and it was such a beautiful feeling to behold.

"N-Nothing, it doesn't matter."

Quinn looks up at her then, and her eyes are their usual hazel color, the color that Rachel grew up with. "Are you sure? You can tell me anything."

Her heart melts a little, because Quinn is so caring and charming, simply from asking a simple question. She can hardly believe her luck, landing with a girl that would go to the end of the earth for her.

"It's fine." Then she smiles, genuinely, because she doesn't feel like she has to fake around Quinn, "Really."

Quinn just smiles and dots a kiss to her lips.

–

"This will sound awkward." Just saying it made the room feel awkward, and Quinn and Rachel are stood side by side, arm to arm as they stand before Cybil. It was fine until Cybil had said that, but she looks so calm that it doesn't unnerve them in any way. "But Quinn, you need to give off your pheromone for Rachel to smell."

"Excuse me...?" Giving off a pheromone is seriously personal to a wolf. It's the one thing that truly belongs to them, it's what makes them, it's almost like smelling a wolf's DNA. It's personal, it's not to be shared, only in the special cases... "Oh. Should I?"

Rachel's brow furrows as she glances between the two women. They're silent as they stare at one another and it's slightly unnerving because although Cybil isn't a werewolf it's like their talking to one another in their minds, just like Quinn can do with Alfred. She feels out of the loop and like she's intruding, so she just drops her head and plays with her fingers until the moment is over.

"Okay." It's Quinn that speaks first and she lets out a shuddering sigh, that makes her sound like she's terrified, so Rachel looks up and smiles lightly.

"If it's something...personal...then you don't have to."

Quinn exchanges a quick glance with Cybil who just nods before looking back to her girlfriend, "This is a special case."

–

She honestly felt nothing for a few minutes, but Cybil had ordered her to sit down like she wouldn't be able to stand up or something, but nothing is happening. She's just sat there, Quinn looks kind of red in the face and Cybil has fucking nose plugs stuffed up her nostrils.

"Were those really necessary?" Rachel asks, pointing to said nose plugs, "I mean honestly, I smell nothing."

Cybil chuckles and the nose plugs slip slightly from her nose, Quinn bites back a smirk, "It's not the smell, sweetie. It's the effects."

"But I feel nothing." Rachel whined with a pout, barely stopping herself from stomping her foot into the carpet.

Quinn's oddly silent, and they stare at one another. She's still red in the face and her breathing has got a little harder. "Are you okay?" Rachel asks, because her girlfriend looks like she's about to combust over the living room carpet.

But the blonde just clenches her lips and her hand shakes as she brings it to her nose. Cybil answers for her, "She's dealing with your smell. Allow her." Rachel shuts up instantly, because she knows that her smell must be pretty strong, and Quinn looks like she's trying so hard not to jump her bones. It kind of makes her feel sexy, making a werewolf lose control of it's inhibitions.

They sit around for another ten minutes and Rachel is getting so fucking impatient it's unreal. She cancelled with her vocal coach for this? To see her girlfriend literally wetting her panties in the corner of a room and an eighty year old woman with nose plugs stuffed up her nostrils?

She huffs, but with a large intake of breath, she feels it. It rushes through her veins, through her blood, through her damn bones. Her body feels like it's on fire and she feels as if she might set alight. She shifts a little on the couch and she knows her whole body is hyper sensitive because when she shifts, the material of her panties just rubs ever so slightly against her and it feels like she's come three times. She clasps her hands tightly over her mouth when she feels the moan bubble up from her throat, and she's mortified, because it feels too fucking good to matter. She feels as if there's a thousand hands on her, caressing her, touching her, fucking her and oh my god, she arches her back against the couch and just _screams. _It's long and hard and it feels like her orgasm just fucks her body all over again. Her body twitches, it aches and it feels so deliciously perfect that she wants it to happen again, but that smell that drove her crazy is gone, and slowly, weakly, she opens her eyes and looks toward Cybil and Quinn, only just realizing they were still in the room.

Quinn is against Cybil's back, growling, eyes a dangerous shade of gold. The hazel is all but gone, and those eyes look like they could eat her alive. A moan escapes her dry throat before she even has a chance to stop it and Quinn growls louder in response.

"Calm down..." She barely hears through the roaring in her ears; her body still twitching gently through the aftershocks and she only just manages to realize that it's Cybil talking to Quinn, "Call down. Relax. She's here. She's yours. You have her."

It takes an hour and a half for Quinn to calm down and in that time, Rachel comes another six times.

–

"I'm so embarrassed." She finally says after Quinn leaves to train. Cybil is pouring her a steaming cup of green tea and the slow pour of the liquid calms her nerves, "I've...never..."

"Don't be embarrassed, sweetie." Cybil smiles softly, "I was just the same all those years ago when I first became acquainted to Alfred's pheromone."

"Is it suppose to be that..." Her mouth suddenly feels dry again and her body feels just like it did when it first smelt it; on fire, brutal, rushing with adrenaline. She takes a long sip of her tea, not caring that it burns the inside of her mouth, it's a good burn. "Strong?"

"Well..." Cybil takes a sip of her tea, "I won't go into details because you obviously don't want to hear this from a woman that's old enough to be your great grandmother, but I couldn't walk for two days afterwards."

Rachel stares.

Cybil smirks softly.

"Too much?"

Rachel nods, "Too much."

–

"You look like you've died a thousand deaths."

She sighs and shakes her head, "I feel like it."

Alfred raises an eyebrow, "So how did it go? You don't look like Cybil had to hit you with her cane."

"She has a cane?" Quinn asks with wide eyes, "But...no, she didn't hit me with it. She had to stand in front of me until I calmed down. That took almost two hours."

"But is it getting easier?" Alfred asks, beginning to unbutton his pinstripe shirt, "That's the biggest factor here. You know how pheromones make your mate feel and to say you're not lip locked on my living room floor, you must have been able to control it."

"Barely. It was hard but...I managed it."

Alfred beams, because he's damn proud of the wolf he's training and he claps both hands on her shoulders, "I'm proud of you, Quinn."

And she just feels like crying, because she made the man she looks up to and adores, proud of her.

–

"Any other issues you'd like to work out before you leave?"

"I think my body has sustained enough physical abuse today, thank you."

Cybil chuckles, "I don't mean in that sense, sweetie. I mean with anything else."

"Like what?"

"I heard from Quinn and the Fabray's that you're having issues at home."

"It's none of your business."

"Okay..."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Rachel sighs, "I'm just rather touchy on that subject."

"Do you mind if I ask why?"

"I just...never thought I'd be the one to have a broken home. I thought everything was fine, but then one day my dad walked in without his wedding ring on and...I refused to accept it at first, but a part of me knew."

"None of us can control what goes wrong in a marriage. It happens to the best of families, sometimes they just don't work out. You just have to understand that no matter what happens, both your parents will move on."

"Yeah, Leroy already has..." She spits venomously. "He just expects me to be fine, to sit down with him and Michael and just be a happy family."

"Why can't you?"

"Because my family includes Hiram Berry. Not Michael Hunter."

"Sweetie, you have to realize that no matter what happens, even if you were to become a part of Michael and Leroy's family, Hiram would still always be there. He'd still be your family."

"I just can't," She whispers, defeated, because no matter how hard she tries, every time Michael laughs at one of Leroy's jokes, she can't help but think it should be her dad's gentle laugh instead of his robust one. "I can't deal with it."

"Eventually you will learn to deal. It hurts at first and it probably always will; you'll always feel that little pang when you think 'that should be my dad' but in the end, you want your family to be happy. And if that's with another person, you just do it."

"I do want them to be happy... I want my dad to be happy."

"Do you think he'd be happy with a man that continues to think about another man?"

"I..."

"Would he?"

"No...no he wouldn't."

"You can't expect everything to be fine straight away. It'll hurt, seeing them together, but over time, you'll get used to it, sweetie. And if you love your dad as much as you say you do, you'd try and work things out with your father."

Rachel sighs, because she knows Cybil is right. She's too stubborn to let the fact that Leroy is happier with Michael because all she wants is her family back. She wants that old dynamic back that made her happy and bubbly. She doesn't want to cry anymore, or mourn the loss of a family she desperately wants back.

"I don't think I can do this by myself..."

"You will never do anything alone, sweetie. Not with Quinn by your side."

Quinn.

–

_Will you go to dinner with Leroy and Michael with me?_

_**What?**_

_I believe my last text was rather self-explanatory, Quinn. Please re-read said text because I'm in the middle of setting up my camera for my nightly MySpace video._

_**...You still use MySpace?**_

_Quinn, focus._

_**I don't think it's wise. Not after everything I did.**_

_Baby, Michael is healed now. He doesn't really care and it's not like he'll know._

_**But I'll know.**_

_You have to face your demons, just like I have to face mine._

_**Are you doing this to test me? Because I think I've been tested enough today.**_

_Quinn...don't get short with me. I'm only asking because I want my girlfriend there. I want her to support me while I try and accept this new relationship and I want to be there for her while I support her through her past demons._

_**I don't need to face anything. I faced mine when I took out $15,000 from my college fund.**_

_Quinn, will you please just think about it?_

_**No, this discussion is over.**_

–

Although Quinn said no to dinner, Rachel still goes ahead and tells her dad to tell Leroy that she's accepted the dinner and she'll go. She isn't happy and she doesn't know why, maybe because she wants to see how her dad reacts on the phone to Leroy, she stays and watches.

Her dad is stood stock still, face poker as he speaks in clipped tones to his ex-husband. "Yes, she'll go." He pauses, "Yes, twelve o'clock." He nods to himself, "Goodbye."

Three sentences, if you could even call them that, and Hiram even sighs with what seems like relief when he puts the phone back down.

"What's at twelve?" Rachel asks, even though she knows. She knows what happens at twelve tomorrow afternoon.

"Signing of the agreement stating that I keep the house. He's entitled to nothing, thanks to his adultery."

"Oh."

Hiram taps his index finger on the phone, "We may be getting divorced baby girl, but we both still love you."

And Rachel just sighs, because it's like she's stuck in the middle again for no apparent reason, "I know..." She grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and disappears back upstairs.

–

"Fabray."

Quinn groans and slams her locker shut because she totally doesn't need this right now. Wednesday is already a shit day because most of her classes are advanced and she really doesn't have the concentration for them today, that and she can't even look at Rachel without feeling guilty and now Santana is on her fucking case.

"What is it, Santana?"

"Chill the fuck out with the attitude." The Latina crosses her arms over her chest, "Where's Berry?"

"I don't know." Then she narrows her eyes, "Why? If you're planning anything-,"

"Oh. Chill. Out." Santana drops her arms, "I'm just asking because she's usually attached to your damn hip."

"Is there any specific reason why you're talking to me expect for taking the piss out of mine and Rachel's relationship?"

"Just seeing how it's going." She sounds so sickeningly sweet and fake it's unreal, but then again, it's Santana. The girl is an enigma.

"I swear, if you're planning to do anything to sabotage my relationship with Rach I'll personally kick your ass."

"Why would I need to when you're doing a fine job of it yourself?" And she walks away, calm as day and Quinn's about to grab her back when Santana says a quiet 'oh' and turns back around again, "You may want to go to the third floor toilet though."

And she's gone, and so is Quinn because she's already down the hall and halfway up the stairs.

–

Rachel's in the bathroom, just like Santana said. Her head is down in one of the sinks, cold water gushing over soaked brown hair and turning blue as it hits the sink. She doesn't notice her girlfriend at first, until the taps are off and she's drying her hair with a towel she obviously stole from the Cheerio's locker room.

"Who did it?"

Rachel jumps. Quinn hasn't moved from the door and she's staring, eyes blazing. "What?"

"Who slushied you...?"

"Quinn, please don't involved with this."

How could she not be involved? Her girlfriend, her mate, the one she urges for was just slushied and she shouldn't get involved? Her wolf howls, pride screaming to the forefront of her brain; she needs to sort this out. She needs to bring the person who did it _down._

"Who. Did. It?"

"Quinn, if you go after her, we're through."

And it doesn't sound like an empty threat. It's terrifying, because now Rachel's eyes are blazing, a wet towel hanging over her shoulders, hair plastered to her skull.

"So it was a her."

"Did you not hear what I just said?"

"Just..." She sighs and clenches her first, "Tell me who it was. I won't go after her."

Rachel sighs, because it's really hard to deny Quinn Fabray anything, especially when she's in her protector mode. It's oddly arousing but terrifying at the same time. It's fucking _thrilling._

"Santana."

Quinn's eyes narrow dangerously, "I'll kill her."

"Quinn. She wants you to go after her, she wants you to make a scene. Don't stoop to her level."

"She slushied you!"

"I can deal with it." Rachel sighs and pulls the towel from around her neck, throwing it into the sink with a haphazard throw, "I've been slushied since day one in this school. I can deal with it. Just...don't go after her. She wants you to get angry, she wants to get a rise out of you and she'll keep doing it if she does. Eventually she'll get bored."

Quinn groans and drops her head into her hands, "Fuck sake."

"Quinn, just please drop it."

The blonde groans into her hands and Rachel giggles slightly, because she swears she hears a snort come from her girlfriend's nose at the same time.

"You're so lucky I love you."

Silence. Dead silence. Only the mild drip drop of water onto a damp towel fills the bathroom and only the heavy cursing in Quinn's head fills her ears. She said it. She said it at the wrong time, in the wrong place. She did it all wrong and she can't bare to look up and see that look Rachel is so obviously giving her. So she does the only thing she can do.

She drops her hands, "I am so sorry..." And runs like her life depends on it.

–

_Quinn?_

_Quinn, will you please text me back or at least pick up your phone?_

_I hope you know you're being incredibly rude._

_I'll text you after my MySpace video. _

_Okay, so you still haven't text me back and I've been gone an hour. Quinn, I know you're there and I know you're reading these._

_I'm not mad._

_Quinn?_

_You missed dinner again..._

_I have dinner with Leroy and Michael tomorrow night at Breadstix. Six pm. Just so you know._

_I'd really like it If you could be there..._

_Goodnight, Quinn. Xxxxxxxxxx_

–

"Is there a reason Quinn didn't come to dinner today?"

"We just had a little misunderstanding, dad."

"Do I need to go over there and unleash my Jewish prowess upon her?"

"Jewish prowess?"

Hiram shrugs, "I tend to watch cartoons when there's nothing else good on."

"I worry for your sanity sometimes, dad."

"If I ever end up putting on a cape and pretending to be Superman, revoke my medical license."

Rachel giggles, "Will do."

–

When her dad called her, she half expected to run out the door and meet Leroy and Michael in the car, but she doesn't, because at the bottom of the stairs is Michael Hunter, looking incredibly fucking uncomfortable, listening to whatever Hiram is saying in low tones.

She stops at the bottom step just as Hiram pulls back and Michael looks like he's about to be sick.

"Are you okay, dad?" She asks, glancing at Michael. Mercifully enough he's wearing a long sleeved shirt, covering the scars on his arms, especially that long jagged one that she _still _has the urge to touch after all this time. But the scars on his throat and neck are still on show, especially the one that covers his throat in it's entirety, centred right over his Adam's apple.

"Fine, baby girl." But his eyes don't leave Michael.

"Okay..." She glances at her dad before looking back to Michael, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," He clears his throat because it comes out all croaky, "Yes, of course."

Rachel watches her dad as she grabs her coat and leaves, but his eyes are still locked on Michael's and the fact she can't decipher the look on her father's face or the look in eyes, scares the hell out of her.

–

It's like deja-vu. Sat almost in the same place, but only one booth down, the same seating plan; Michael and Leroy on one side, her on the other, and the same awkward tension that just seems to fill the whole restaurant. It was awkward enough, when they first walked in, because one of Michael's family friends was just leaving with his wife and daughter and he'd sneered at them and locked eyes with Leroy and just said, "Your perverted ways destroyed his family. It's disgusting."

Homophobia wasn't rare in Lima, honestly, most of the town's population either didn't like it, didn't acknowledge it or were okay with it. It was just a shame that the people who didn't like it showed it more than the people who did. But it came with territory, and it was something she'd have to get used to, especially with being with Quinn.

She glanced down at her phone and still no text. No missed calls. No nothing from her girlfriend. She doesn't know why Quinn reacted to badly, because in her heart of hears, Rachel already knew. That look that Quinn had in her eyes when they didn't speak until Sectionals was one that she'd seen so many times before in the eyes of her fathers, or in the eyes of Santana as she talked to Brittany. She saw it in the eyes of Mr. Schuester as he spoke about Emma and the new baby on the way. She saw it and she knew it, she just didn't want to admit it, mostly because she wasn't sure how she felt.

Was she really in love with Quinn too? Did she love her as much as Quinn did? The same questions raced through her mind, and she's deleted so many texts just bluntly saying 'I love you too' because it's just something you don't do over the phone. It's something you do face to face, it's something you share and revel in. It's something you say when you're looking into golden hazel eyes and just feel that love just explode from your chest when you finally utter the words you'd felt since you first kissed on that swing in that park where it all began.

"Honey, are you ready to order?" She glances up at Leroy and nods gently before looking back to the open menu on the table. She hadn't even glanced at it, she'd opened it and left it, because as soon as she'd sat down she wasn't really hungry anymore. But she picks out a salad, because she doesn't want to appear rude.

They're in the middle of a rather one sided conversation. Both Michael and Leroy are asking how school is going, how the college search is going and if he needs to give her any extra money for New York. She answers every question with clipped tones, but not because she doesn't want to be there, but because she's still thinking. The same thought is still ticking away in her head, ticking away, confusing her, conflicting her.

Did she love Quinn?

"What took you so long?" She hears Leroy ask gently, so gently in fact she barely hears it. She's playing with the straw of her drink, so Leroy assumes she's too preoccupied to care about their conversation.

"Hiram spoke to me."

Leroy's quiet for so long, "And?"

"I'm sorry to bother you." Rachel's head snaps up and she beams instantly, because there, stood in a long sleeved white dress shirt, grey slacks, grey tie and grey waistcoat ensemble is Quinn Fabray in all her glory. "I was wondering if the invitation was still open."

Leroy and Michael both look confused, so they turn their attention to Rachel who's still beaming and almost crying because Quinn is _right there_ looking at her with such devotion and care.

"It's still open." The singer whispers before shuffling over in the booth and pulling Quinn down by the hand. Quinn blushes as she sits but before she can even open her mouth to apologize for intruding, Rachel's taken her lips hostage. It's soft and chaste, nothing like their other kisses. This is almost like they're trying to re-learn one another, but more importantly, it has that undertone that Quinn feels her heart stop at. She feels it, she feels it so hard and she feels her werewolf do a back flip in joy.

"Well. I shouldn't say this is a surprise," Leroy chuckles, nudging Michael with his elbow who chuckles also, but it appears a little forced.

"Sorry." Rachel whispers as she pulls back, "Michael, this is Quinn Fabray. Quinn, this is Michael Hunter."

Michael smiles and extends his hand. Quinn hesitates, because it's finally going to happen. She's going to face a demon that she never wished to face. She thought she could get rid of it with money, but it was always there, niggling in the back of her mind with flashbacks to the day she almost killed him in a fit of pure rage. She has the chance to redeem herself. She has a chance to make herself feel just a little bit better because of it. The wound will never heal of almost shattering his life, but at least it'll make it bearable.

She only just manages to extend her left hand and clutch his tightly because Rachel grabs her right and soothes the healing cuts on her knuckles with her the pad of her thumb. Two conflicting feelings; the feeling of a rough hand shaking hers and a soft, feminine hand sending shock waves up her arm. It's unsettling, but Michael is still smiling when he pulls back his hand.

"I'm afraid we already ordered, Quinn."

"Oh that's fine, I'm not really hungry."

Rachel just scoffs.

–

It's hard to eat with two people who doesn't know she's a werewolf in front of her. She hadn't even managed to take her mother up on those eating etiquette lessons because she'd been so busy, so she honestly didn't know how to eat without stuffing the whole thing into her mouth. She was starving, she hadn't eaten until two hours ago. Okay, seriously, she's an Alpha, she needs to eat every hour on the hour or she just wants to faint.

But she manages, she grips her knife and fork like her life depends on it, and she's thankful that she's not a huge fan of Breadstix's food because she doesn't have the urge to slide the whole plate of spaghetti into her mouth. The urge is still there...because yeah, it's food...but it's not an animalistic urge like she has with her mother's food.

"So how long have you two been dating?" Leroy asks when he takes a break from his calzone. It honestly takes up the whole of his plate, and he's already demolished half of the pepperoni and mushroom concoction when he asks.

"A few months." Quinn answers, because Rachel seems a little uncomfortable to talk to her father, "A great few months."

Rachel smiles gently up at her and returns to her salad. Rachel's unusually quiet, which is natural, because Quinn knows how much she doesn't want to be here. She doesn't want to play happy families with a man she holds no respect for and a man that ruined her family. But she's proud of Rachel for even showing up. When she'd read the text that Rachel wanted her to go to dinner, her first thought was 'fuck that' but after some thought, she realized it was the wrong thing to do. Rachel had been there through thick and thin with her problems, yet she couldn't be there when her girlfriend needed her the most? It was rude and it was entirely unfair.

It took a hell of a lot of work, but eventually she managed to get herself into the shower, put her make up on, do her hair and put on her best dinner clothes. It was only at Breadstix, but Jesus, she was meeting the family, she had to make an impression!

"That's fantastic," Leroy smiles, "Rach, are you enjoying your salad?"

Rachel remains quiet, her fork pushing a croûton around the bowl like a one way soccer game. Leroy locks eyes with Quinn and she immediately understands. She wraps her arm around her girlfriend and presses a kiss to her ear, "Rach...you can do this, okay?"

The singer sighs and when Quinn pulls back ever so slightly to look at her, she sees her throat work gently.

"It's great, Leroy."

Quinn beams and Leroy looks as if he's about to cry, because even though he still hasn't earned the title of 'daddy', at least his daughter can talk to him. Baby steps.

Baby steps. That's all he needed right now.

All four of them are outside after the meal. It was still...awkward...but less awkward since Quinn had turned up. The girl was a godsend. A serious godsend and Leroy, Michael and Rachel couldn't be more thrilled she had turned up.

Leroy decided to get the car and meet them out front and Rachel, in a last second struggle, went with him. Quinn beamed and pressed a kiss to Rachel's soft lips, murmured 'I'm proud of you' and watched her walk away beside her father.

Then she realized she was left alone with Michael Hunter.

The man didn't speak at first, not until Rachel and Leroy were around the corner, and suddenly Quinn felt completely out of her depth. Thanks to her training, she managed to pull back the growling of her wolf. It still saw the man as a threat, even if she didn't, and she was so fucking thankful that she was as strong as she was.

"So...you and Rachel?"

Quinn stuffed her hands into her pockets and nodded softly, "Me and Rachel."

"You make her happy. I think that's the happiest I've ever seen her."

Her wolf howls loudly and she just manages to reign it back, because it's so fucking pissed off and all she wants to do is say 'do you expect her to be happy after what you've done?' but she bites her lip and just nods because she knows whatever comes out of her mouth won't be able to be controlled.

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

"Not really..."

"I understand that." He falls silent, "I take it you're the percentage that believes the attack on me was warranted?"

Oh God no, not now. Please don't talk about the attack. Please don't let her or her wolf remember. She can't turn her head, she can't look at those scars that have plagued her through dinner. She can't look at those scars and remember how it felt so fucking perfect to sink her teeth in and just rip and tear. She can't let her wolf howl with pride. She can't spit out 'you deserved it' because she needs to make this work. She needs to face her demons, she needs to make Rachel proud of her.

"I don't really have an opinion. It's not really any of my business."

She watches Michael nod his head in the corner of her eye and she sighs with relief, because the subject is dropped.

"I just want to thank you for showing up. I had a bad feeling that Rachel would continue to hate her father and I's relationship."

"She just needs support. I was there to give it to her."

He nods once more, "I hope one day I can make this right."

She wishes she can too because she _still _wants to hurt him.

"I just hope, one day, she can call Leroy her daddy again."

–

"Quinn seems rather smitten with you."

Rachel smiles, although it's a little forced, "I'm smitten with her."

"You're both...being safe, right?"

"I don't know if you realize this, but she can't get me pregnant."

Leroy groans softly, "Rach...you know what I mean."

"We haven't had sex, Leroy, if that's what you're asking."

"Okay."

They're silent, but this time, mercifully, it's not awkward and Rachel breathes in with relief.

"So, is Quinn going to New York with you?"

Rachel hesitates, "I...think so. I don't know if she can afford it."

"I thought Russell and Judy put money away for that?" He frowns, "That's what they told me, at least."

She can't say that the money isn't there anymore, because she knows that Leroy would ask where all the money went. She can't say, so she lies. She lies right through her teeth.

"Oh, she must have the money then. I don't know, I haven't really spoken to her about it yet, but I think she wants to go to New York with me."

"So...you're in it for the long haul?"

"I would hope so." Because she does and there's nothing else to say.

They arrive at the car and he hesitates as he moves to unlock it, "Do you love her?"

Rachel's fingertips graze the handle of the back door and she wishes the door was unlocked so she could dive in, because this isn't the person she wants to have this conversation with. It should be Quinn, who's still stuck in front of the restaurant with Michael.

But Leroy looks at her with soft eyes, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and she's reminded of her daddy. Her daddy that looked at her like that when she was just a child and she sung into a hairbrush as she jumped up and down on her bed. Her daddy who looked at her with complete and utter adoration.

Just for a second, she's remembers that inside Leroy, her daddy is still there, locked away, but ready to come out again, and in that second of clarity she simply says;

"Yes."


	7. Moonlight

"Quinn Fabray."

Quinn's eyes never leave her laptop, but she smiles, because that voice could make a thousand angels swoon. She's sat crossed legged on the bed, in the middle of writing an essay for AP History that she'd already put off for two weeks, when that voice, melodious and perfect just rings through her barren room.

"Rachel Berry."

There's a slight giggle and then she feels the bed dip behind her, but she just continues to write, typing away like there isn't a very non-mannish hand running up her back and nails digging into the skin as it drags all the way back down again.

"Aren't you going to talk to me…?"

Quinn barely hides a smirk, although that scratching on her back is fucking spine tingling. Rachel knows what it does to her, so she keeps doing it, the same path, the same trail. But Quinn is still writing, head bowed, hair in a sloppy ponytail, only in a thin wife beater and sleep shorts.

She couldn't look more delicious if she tried. Rachel watches her, over her shoulder as her hand continues to burn the same trail over her back. Quinn's fingertips hesitate over the keys, like they really don't know where to go next, and she can see the blonde's throat bob ever so gently when her nails dig particularly hard.

It's like a game between them; a game to see who will snap first. A game to see if Quinn can handle the pressure. And Quinn can. She really can. It's been months since dinner with Hiram, and although it was a slight disaster…_okay, huge disaster,_ it just pushed Quinn to work that much harder.

She trains daily, with and without Alfred and she doesn't stop until she's exhausted. She trains out in the woods that her family always hunts in, she trains out by the park under the moonlight, she trains in her very own backyard.

She trains and trains until her body can't take it anymore; and thanks to all that training, she can deal with the smells, she can deal with the sound of Rachel's voice, she can deal with Rachel's touch without just wanting to ravage her.

It's more sedate and her wolf is calm because it gets its needs attended to; not in the way it wants them to be attended to, but attended to none the less. They kiss and touch one another, they explore one another's bodies and the moans that Quinn evokes from Rachel's full lips just makes her wolf howl with satisfaction.

Well…until it gets hard all over again and they have to stop. She has such a high tolerance, both for herself and her wolf, but when Rachel looks at her with those almost black eyes, shirtless, bra off and only in panties that are soaked and musky with moisture, does her resolve break.

The urge to pin Rachel down and just _fuck _her is too overwhelming, and much to their chagrin, they have to stop. It feels like a death sentence when she has to pull away, it always does, pulling away from a body so ready and so perfect, but she knows she has to do it, because her and Rachel's first time should be special.

And it will be.

"_Baby, just calm down, okay? You look like you're about to have a stroke."_

"_I think I'm going to have a stroke." Quinn bounces on the balls of her feet, staring at the front door like it's the door to the gas chamber, "Oh God, am I having a stroke?"_

_Rachel chuckles gently, grabs Quinn by the cheeks and pulls her down, "Look at me…" Quinn does, only just managing to rip her eyes away from that damn front door. "You are going to be fantastic. You are in control. You can do this."_

_And she smiles softly, because Rachel is looking up at her with radiating confidence, and she knows she wants to make her girlfriend proud. Proud of her and the fact that she can tame her feral wolf._

"_I can do it."_

"Not that I'm complaining…" Quinn groans, head pushing back against the pillows as she feels that hot wet mouth envelope her aching nipple, "But…why are you here?"

There's no reply, only the rapid flick of a tongue back and forth and she groans so fucking loudly because Rachel's mouth should come with a safety warning because it's so perfect and it makes her wet her damn panties.

It's like a torture that she never wants to end. She's bound down, small but strong hands pinning her down by the forearms, half a naked body draped over her and that mouth. My God that mouth. Her wolf is forcing itself against her steel will, begging to be set free, loudly demanding that it takes Rachel.

She's right there, half naked, willing and ready and fuck she wants her. She can smell that musky aroma, hear every whispered whimper against hot flesh, hear the pounding of Rachel's heart thumping against her chest. Her body feels as if it's set alight, especially with the way that mouth trails hot kisses across her heaving chest to envelope another nipple.

Quinn arches, mouth agape, eyes wide, because now Rachel's shifted she can feel those tight abs pressing so fucking perfectly between her thighs. Her clit aches and it throbs and she knows she's leaving a slick trail across tan skin, but she can't bring herself to care, because Rachel is moaning just that much more louder because _she _knows. _She _can feel Quinn's wetness slicking her stomach.

"I want you so bad," She hears Rachel whine against her chest, mouth still around a pebbled nipple and it makes Quinn choke out a groan because fuck, she wants her too, she wants her so bad.

Her wolf is still pushing, still fighting that will that's slowly beginning to crumble because Rachel's grinding her stomach ever so gently against her aching pussy and,

"Oh God, fuck." It's an honest show of strength as she rips her arms away from Rachel's tight grasp, grabs those wrists and flips the girl over. Quinn's over her in a second and she only takes moments to truly look at Rachel.

The singer's chest is heaving, lips swollen and wet, eyes almost blackened with an arousal that threatens to engulf her entire body. Her stomach glistens in the sunlight, showing a haphazard trail of arousal and come that begs to be taken care of. And her panties, black lace that she knows Rachel wore on purpose to tease her, to goad her, to silently say 'I'm ready, are you?' because they both know they're ready. They both know they want one another. They both know they just want to screw and just release all that passion that's built up over the months of holding back.

"The things I'd do to you…" Quinn growls and she's honestly shocked by how low and primal her voice sounds. It sends a shiver through Rachel and Quinn watches with avid golden eyes as Rachel bites her bottom lip and moans at the tone. A hot flash rips through her pussy and she just grinds ever so slightly against Rachel's thigh, hoping in some way it'll just help with the delicious hurt that's been growing for months.

"Then do them to me." Rachel whispers finally as she clasps her hands on Quinn's hips, "Do them to me and show me how much you own me."

"_If I die of a stroke, I want to be cremated."_

_Rachel giggles and adjusts her tie; she's wearing the same suit that she wore for Leroy and Michael's dinner. It was really the only thing that looked extremely fancy, and she definitely wanted to make a good impression on Hiram Berry. The man was a damn surgeon, and she was almost positive if she came to dinner in jeans and a ratty shirt he'd pull out those scalpels that Rachel told her he had stored somewhere._

_So as her girlfriend fiddles with her grey skinny tie, she takes the time to make sure the top button of her white shirt is done, that there's no wrinkles, that her grey waistcoat (that cost a damn arm and a leg) was buttoned and tidy and that she didn't have any marks on her grey pants. God forbid she walked in that house with tomato ketchup halfway down her leg._

_Mortification much?_

"_It's going to be fine. You're working yourself up over nothing." Then Rachel beams and presses a quick kiss to her chin, "My father has met you before."_

"_Yeah, but this time it's as the girl who's dating you."_

"_Why should that make a difference?"_

"_Because he'll know that one day, if not already, I'll defile-,"_

"_Okay, we'll stop you right there, hm?"_

_Quinn smirks and wraps her arms around Rachel's waist, taking the chance to glance down Rachel's dress to check out that cracking cleavage, "Why stop?"_

"_You know why…" Rachel whispers, resting her forehead against Quinn's chest, enjoying the way her girlfriend's perfume fills her senses._

"_Tell me."_

_Slowly, Rachel smirks and pulls back, "Because I'd rather not be wet and wanting you while I'm eating dinner with my father."_

_She watches avidly as Quinn's eyes flicker from hazel to pure gold and back again. It never ceases to amaze her how Quinn's eyes can change within the click of her fingers, and how she has that control to do it. She has the power to control Quinn's every mood and that fact that Quinn wants her just as much as she does, maybe more, just drives her wild with both arousal and smugness. _

"_I asked for that…didn't I…?" Quinn asks quietly, not trusting herself to talk, because if she says anything else she knows she'll just pick the tiny singer up and slam her against the fucking door._

_She needs to calm down. She needs to calm down, now._

"_You sure did." But Rachel's smiling again and clasping her hand in Quinn's, thankfully non-bruised, hand, "Come on baby. Time to meet my dad."_

She wants to ask Rachel if she's sure. She wants to ask Rachel if she's sure about how she feels or if she's just being swept up in the moment of teenage hormones and lust, but she can't, she just can't. Her girlfriend, her urge, her mate is laying beneath her, strung out, whining and begging to be fucked and it's driving her to the brink of insanity.

She wants to be ready for this; she wants her wolf to just let her take the lead and not take the control that it loves so much. She wants to choose where her hands move, she wants to choose what part of Rachel's skin she tastes; she doesn't want her wolf to make their first time a mistake.

But she feels like she may die if she doesn't touch Rachel, and her hips continue to grind that same path up and down her strong thigh just to try and get rid of the hurt. It hurts. It hurts so good and just knowing that in some way Rachel is helping with that, drives her crazy.

"Are you sure?" She asks, her voice a low growl as she rests her hands beside Rachel's head, leaning down on strong arms to be closer. She needs to be closer, she needs to feel the comfort that Rachel natural gives off. She needs to hear the heavy pounding of her girlfriend's heart when she thinks of an answer to the one question they'd been avoiding for weeks.

"Quinn…" She whines and it's all Quinn needs. It's all she needs to hear because Rachel's hand slides down the expanse of her slick stomach and her fingertips are teasing the waistband of her panties. Quinn watches, vaguely aware of anything around her except for Rachel's hand. It teases the black lace, back and forth slowly, and Quinn watches almost hypnotized.

"Please…" Quinn begs and its almost like a miracle because that hand pushes its way inside Rachel's panties and strokes. She hears Rachel whimper when fingers brush against her clit, soaking it with the abundant moisture that's so silky and smooth and Quinn wishes she could taste.

Her wolf roars with an intensity that she's never felt before, but she can't move her body to deal with it. Rachel is essentially fucking herself and she's just watching; watching that hand rub and fuck her clit, watching as Rachel's breathing gets heavier, watching as Rachel's mouth opens and closes as she fights to say _something._

It's so breathy and husky and she feels all the blood rush to her head. She's dizzy and intoxicated from Rachel and the smell of her, and when she whines, "Oh fuck, Quinn."

She just snaps.

"_Dad?" Rachel calls out and instinctively Quinn grabs her hand tighter, in a vice grip, almost like a lifeline. It's terrifying to know that after all this time she's going to meet Hiram. It was bad enough meeting Leroy, but it didn't really count; after all, his opinion wasn't worth spit after what he had done._

"_In the kitchen, honey!" There's a pause and the clacking of some pans and Quinn instantly thinks he's getting one ready to beat her to death or something. She feels herself hyperventilate, but she's breathing just fine. Her body sends her mixed signals and she just wishes she could bolt, but Rachel smiles up at her and just drags her further into the house._

"_Is Quinn with you?" _

_She wishes she wasn't, but she's stood right at the kitchen doorway and Hiram is too busy fiddling with the large assortment of pans on the stove to actually notice. Quinn takes a deep breath and forces a smile so big it actually hurts her damn jaw._

"_Right here, dad."_

_Hiram's head snaps up and Quinn half expects a pan to come flying at her head, but the surgeon is just beaming. He wipes his hand on a cloth before extending it with an undeniably charming smile, "Hiram Berry. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Quinn."_

_But there's an undertone, something that no one else in the room can sense but she. It's the calm before the storm, the hot electric of a battle that demands to be fought. His eyes gleam and she knows why; she has to prove herself._

_So when she shakes his hand and forces back the growl of 'mine' that her wolf demands to be let free, she smiles and says, "The pleasure is all mine."_

All control is gone, and all she can do is sate the deepest need she and her wolf desire and Rachel is all but willing to go along with the ride. Sloppy open mouthed kisses are dotted down Rachel's heaving stomach, stopping momentarily to nip and bite and leave marks that only scream 'mine' before continuing on a scorching path.

And she's between her legs and that smell, that musky addictive smell has never been so fucking beautiful fills her. She glances up, eyes all but golden and blown and Rachel's looking down at her, mouth open as she heaves for air, eyes pleading for her body just to be touched.

So slowly, eyes still locked in a stare that's filled with sexual electricity that it makes that hair on the back of Quinn's neck stand high on end, she dips her head and presses a kiss to a panty clad pussy.

Rachel's back instinctively arches, breath sucked in but not released before those lips are just brushing. They're there, doing such a simple thing, but it feels like her body is just being _fucked._

She wants to ask Quinn if now is the right time, but before she can even think about forming the words, Quinn is pressing kisses harder and right on her clit. She jumps, gripping the headboard for support as her body goes haywire. She knows she's soaked and she knows she should feel embarrassed just by how much, but the look in Quinn's eyes, just makes her feel so sexy and so wanted. And she loves it.

_They have drinks first, which is slightly awkward to say the least. She almost feels like she's at one of her parents dinner parties where they drink a few glasses of wine before sitting down to dinner. It feels so prim and proper that she feels like she's in the Stepford Wives novel and Hiram is the…wife?_

_She shudders and Rachel glances at her from the corner of her eye, "Are you cold?"_

"_Oh, no." Quinn chuckles nervously, "I'm fine."_

_Hiram is still beyond busy in the kitchen and Quinn is half wondering what the hell he's cooking. There's only three of them but from the sounds of it, he seems to be cooking some sort of banquet and honestly, she won't complain, because she hasn't eaten since lunch time because leaving food on your plate when it was cooked for you just isn't good table manners._

_Actually, that was step one of her mothers classes. And fuck were they uncomfortable. Judy had a book, _a book_, on table manners and the book was so unbelievably thick it wasn't even funny. How could one person write so much about how to sit up straight and which hand to put your knife and fork in?_

"_Baby, it's only dinner. You've already have the worst part out of the way. Now all you need to do is eat dinner and talk to my dad. He's pretty easy going."_

_Quinn finds it hard to believe, mostly because of that look in Hiram's eye. She knew what it meant and her wolf certainly did too. Hiram was asserting himself as Rachel's father. He was telling her 'I'm not quite sure of you yet' and it pissed her straight off. She was dying to tell him what she'd done to protect Rachel and that she would rather die than hurt her. But she can't. So she stays silent and fiddles with her glass of orange juice, trying not to smash it in a grip that's too tight to bare. _

"Oh fuck, Quinn…" Rachel's eyes squeeze shut as she feels Quinn's lips clamp around her clit, panties only feeling like an insignificant barrier. Quinn is sucking hard, so brutal in fact that it sends shots of thrills straight up and down her back. Her toes clench against Quinn's naked back, hands gripping the headboard like a lifeline.

The blonde groans, luxuriating in the taste of her girlfriend. She's never tasted Rachel like this before and the first drop of Rachel's essence against her tongue just drives her wild with excitement. It's such a distinctive taste, one that only she will taste and only ever will taste.

Her wolf screams for dominance; to just take Rachel and finally make her hers. It's getting so much harder to reign it back, to take control of the situation because as she finally tastes her girlfriend, all she can focus on is the way her tongue brushes that hard and sensitive bump through the rough texture of black panties.

She hears Rachel above her, moaning for more, begging for more and her wolf is tearing her will apart from the inside out. It wants to come out, it wants to take control, it wants to mark Rachel.

And it's all Quinn wants too.

_Her stomach is growling and it only grows louder when Hiram finally shouts 'Dinner's ready!' from the kitchen. She tries not to dive into her seat because she doesn't want to seem overeager, so instead she waits until Hiram enters the room to pull out Rachel's chair and let her sit._

_He looks vaguely impressed, but he says nothing as he settles down a large oven dish in the centre of the table. Quinn bites her lip, because God damn, that was chivalrous! So she plops herself down in the seat beside Rachel and sighs._

"_What's wrong?" Rachel asks, leaning toward her slightly._

"_Nothing," Quinn forces a smile and then scrunches her face up instinctively when Rachel presses a kiss to her nose. "I wish you'd stop doing that."_

"_You love it," Rachel sing songs as she grabs her napkin and settles it on her lap with a grin._

_She won't admit it, but she does love it. She loves it a hell of a lot._

_Hiram settles an array of steamed vegetables on the table, as well as bread rolls and even a pot of toothpicks. _

"_Jesus…" Quinn whispers, because it truly is overkill what level this man will go to. Hiram stares at her, midway sitting down and she just forces a smile, "It looks fantastic." And the man grins before settling himself into his seat, grabbing a napkin for himself and it's only then Quinn realizes she _has _to use a napkin._

_She grabs one from the centre of the table but pulls too fast in her haste to prepare herself for dinner, sending pure white napkins across the table and onto her lap. "Oh, uhm…" She struggles, silently berating herself as she picks up the napkins and settles them back onto the table, and in her haste, knocks over her glass of orange juice onto a stark white dining table cloth. Rachel is giggling, Hiram stares._

_And all she wants to do is just _die.

She only drags herself away when there's an almost painful tug to the back of her hair, so with a whine from both her and her wolf, she departs the soft spot between Rachel's leg with a kiss and crawls her way back up.

Rachel's cheeks are flushed, chest heaving, tongue wetting dry lips, "Fuck…"

"…You okay?" She only manages to say, voice so very low. She watches Rachel shudder at the tone and just for one second she thinks she's scared her, thinks that she's reminded her of the attack of Michael Hunter, or the way she attacked Alfred Noble, but no. Rachel's arms are wrapping around her neck, pulling her down until their nose to nose. "Rach…?"

Fingers tease through the back of her hair, pulling and tugging and Quinn's mews because it's so relaxing but torturous at the same time. She still feels that heat from where she lays between Rachel's leg and all she wants to do is dive straight back in. But she doesn't want to use strength to pull away from Rachel's grip. Through all the training she's still terrified about what she could do. Alfred has taught her all he knows, Cybil had helped as much as she can. It's up to her now. There's no one else to help. There's no one else to fall back on or blame. She has to control herself. She has to control the need that desperately runs through her body.

So she stays there, all the while her wolf slamming full force against a wall that threatens to buckle at any given second.

"Rach…?" She asks again, focused on blown brown eyes that flick from one golden eye to the other. It's unnerving, because Rachel is never this silent, but she looks as if she's contemplating something deep. So she swallows, chews down hard on her bottom lip and just _waits._

Something feels different between the two of them and Quinn can't quite pinpoint it. It might be the way Rachel is searching her; almost as if she's trying to see if Quinn's wolf is trying or will break free. Or it might be the way that Rachel's body feels so perfect against her own, so warm and needed. Or maybe it's the way Rachel pulls her hands back, props herself up on her elbows and pushes herself and Quinn up.

Suddenly sat up on the knees in between Rachel's legs, Quinn watches her girlfriend with a bated breath.

"Right now…?" Rachel finally whispers, voice thick with arousal.

And all Quinn can do is nod because she knows they're both ready. They've been ready since that time in the classroom when she finally made Rachel come; when she finally watched Rachel's body erupt with a pleasurable agony and just explode.

And even if she wants to say no, her wolf won't allow it.

_It's a fucking disaster of unimaginable proportions and all because of one thing. _

_Hiram gets up to get a pitcher of water and it's only then that Quinn opens her mouth to speak of the problem that will plague the rest of the dinner. "Baby…" She turns to Rachel with wide, scared eyes, "I need meat."_

"_Excuse me?" Rachel asks, turning to face her almost pale looking girlfriend. She's never seen her girlfriend look so pale; only when she was shot in the leg but…that's something that's never spoken about. The wound has completely disappeared, but the hurt in Rachel's heart is still there. She still feels that pang deep inside whenever she thinks that she could have lost her girlfriend to a stupid hunting party. "Are you okay?"_

"_I need meat."_

"_Quinn, you're well aware that both my father and I are Vegan, correct?"_

"_I know that but…" It's the only way she can control her wolf from breaking free. Her father had given her tips on how to deal with; along with controlling your breathing and all the other cliché things, one thing a wolf cannot turn away from is meat. She needs a juicy medium rare steak on her plate, mashed potato, chunky fries and a hell of a lot of ketchup, not pesto and pine nut __tagliatelle__._

"_But what?" Rachel huffs, "Quinn. My father and I take our Veganism very seriously, how do you think we would feel if you had half a cow on your plate?"_

"_I know but I-,"_

"_I know you like to eat meat and I understand that, Quinn, but you have to realize that my father cooked this dinner for us. You're going to have to…you know…suck it up." Rachel shrugs helplessly and pats her hand over Quinn's clenched left and pulls back just in time for Hiram to arrive back at the dinner table._

_He settles down two pitchers of water and sits back down into his seat. Quinn watches with helpless eyes as he grabs tongs, "Oh dad, would you mind giving Quinn a big portion? She has a big appetite."_

_His eyes flicker from his daughter's to Quinn and then immediately to her waistline. She bites down hard on her inner cheek and silently curses her girlfriend, even though she was only looking out for her. As she watches Hiram give her a monstrosity of a portion of tagliatelle, all she can wonder is;_

_Does he think I'm a fat bastard now…?_

Quinn's on her back because Rachel somehow knew that she was finding it difficult to control herself. So now the kisses to her jaw and throat are only intended to soothe, not to arouse. They're sweet and caring and it fills Quinn's heart with such joy because it's times like these she truly feels like she has the love of her girlfriend. She's cared for and loved with every available ounce that Rachel has to give. And she loves her mate even more for it.

"We'll take it slow," Rachel eventually says, intertwining her fingers with Quinn's and pulling the hand up to settle on the pillow. The kissing turns slower, lips and tongue brush against her jawbone and it's not enough to make her wolf howl for dominance, but its enough to send a fresh wave of moisture between her legs. "If it's too hard to handle, tell me to stop and I will…" She presses a kiss to the centre of Quinn's throat and smiles when she feels that growl vibrate against her lips, "Okay…?"

And only when Rachel is between her legs, lips brushing against the waistband of her panties, tongue dipping in ever so slightly to brush against the skin underneath does she whine out a strangled, "Okay."

Rachel's hand unclasps from Quinn's strong grip, dragging down across a heaving chest and stomach to finally settle between her legs. She rubs through panties that are soaked with moisture, and she watches her fingers avidly as they work the sensitive flesh.

Quinn whines and moans, gripping the bed covers and pulling as Rachel runs the pad of one finger down her slit to settle at her soaked entrance. "Can I…?" Her mate asks quietly from between her legs and she's half temped to rip the damn things off herself so Rachel will just touch her, but instead, she looks down, presses her forearm to her forehead and nods.

Her panties are pulled down so agonizingly slow but Rachel makes up for it for the kisses she presses down her inner thigh and all the way to her ankle until finally, they're off. Her body is humming with sexual frustration and to try and hide away from the embarrassing amount of moisture between her legs, she slides her forearm to her eyes and covers them.

She vaguely hears Rachel whisper, "Oh God, baby…" And she's too embarrassed to open her mouth because she knows Rachel can see how wet she is. So she moves to snap her legs closed, but Rachel holds them open with a strength that surprises her.

Quinn feels Rachel's eyes on her, burning her skin with a levelled gaze and she wants to tear her arm away and look, to see if her girlfriend is freaked out or just simply enamoured but then she feels a delicious hot mouth wrap around her clit and her body just fucking jumps off the bed.

She exhales loudly, hands shooting down to grip thick brown tresses, "Yes!" She whines when she feels that skilled tongue flick and circle her clit, fucking it to perfection. Rachel moans against her pussy, luxuriating in the way that Quinn's already swollen clit hardens under the teasing of her tongue and the way moisture just floods across her taste buds.

Her golden wolf, so primal and strong starts to crack the wall she'd built up from training. It attacks and snarls and bites and it's so fucking close to coming free, and Quinn, with every available strength she has left, reigns it in, locks it down and just enjoys the way her mate fucks her clit.

Rachel's eyes flicker up and watch as Quinn writhes against her mouth, pushing her head down, hips moving up to fuck her mouth. She feels so empowered, much more than Quinn will ever be. Here, in Quinn's childhood bedroom, she has the power over her girlfriend. And it's awe inspiring.

Her head is pushed down further and her tongue slips from Quinn's clit, "Baby…" The blonde whines, lifting her hips up to Rachel's mouth is just that much closer to her entrance. "There."

Her voice is so low and dangerous, Rachel knows she's close to snapping, but she can't bring herself to stop and if Quinn kills her through multiple orgasms, it's gonna be a good way to go.

"Inside…?" Rachel whispers, dragging the full length of her tongue down Quinn's dripping slit, stilling at a wet and ready entrance that just begs for Rachel's tongue.

And Quinn just pants, hands still clenched tightly in Rachel's hair, "Inside." And then she feels that hot wet muscle push deep inside her and she just fucking screams.

_It's not enough. She feels like bolting straight out the door and going to hunt, and she kicks herself mentally for not taking her dad's offer to hunt that afternoon. He offered, clear as day and she declined because she didn't want to go to dinner with a full stomach._

_Oh, how stupid she was. How could she not remember the most basic thing about her girlfriend? Well, apart from the fact that she's destined for Broadway and New York. How could she forget the simple fact that's Vegan?_

_Seriously. She should just sit in front of her mirror when she gets home and berate herself on how she forgets the simplest of things._

_But Rachel looks so happy, eating and laughing with her dad and honestly, the food is fantastic, it's like an electric burst on her taste buds but…there's just no meat. Her wolf demands the food it needs and she's trying to tell it to calm down, that she'll grab a cheeseburger on the way home or something, but it's just not having any of it._

_She growls._

_Rachel's head snaps so fast to her it's miraculous that it didn't come clean off her neck and Hiram is just staring at her like she's suddenly grown a second and then a third head. And she's just sat there, hands clutching her fork like it's her only lifeline because that growl wasn't human and the Berry's don't own any pets._

"_Oh…haha!" Rachel laughs and Quinn can obviously tell it's fake even though Rachel is a spectacular actress, "Was that your stomach?" Quinn just stares, because seriously, is she trying to make her sound like a blimp or something? But Rachel is looking back to her father, trying to ignore the hole that Quinn is burning into the side of her head, "Sorry about that dad. Quinn has a big appetite, just like her father."_

_And there's a long pause and Quinn can feel the fork in her hand bend under the strength she's holding it with. Hiram is just watching her, he can see she's pale and he's not stupid. He's a surgeon and a damn fine one at that. Something is going on and he knows exactly what it is._

"_I think it's time we had a talk, don't you think, Quinn?"_

_And both her and Rachel gulp simultaneously. _

Quinn is damn near riding her tongue and it feels amazing. Quinn is propped up on one elbow, one hand still clawing at her scalp as her hips move up and down, trying to pierce herself on Rachel's tongue. Rachel moans into Quinn, gripping her hips in a grip so tight she wouldn't be surprised if she left bruises.

"Oh God yes, fuck me." Quinn throws her head back, mouth wide as she moans. She's unhinged, so much so that things that usually would never come from her mouth spring free almost as if it's second nature. But Rachel's tongue feels so hot inside her and it's sliding against each and every one of her tight walls like it belongs there.

Rachel's hips, of their own accord, beginning to push down into the bed, humping the mattress to try and alleviate the tension on her clit. And it feels so good. So she grinds her pussy down harder against the bed, all but fucking it through her panties as she pleasures her girlfriend to a pinnacle that threatens to rear its head at any given second.

"Deeper baby, deeper…" Quinn begs through a moan, grabbing the back of Rachel's neck and pushing without warning. Rachel's tongue slides just that bit further in and Quinn's eyes cross at being filled. "Oh…Jesus…" Her throat is clenched and she can hardly breath through the pleasure her body screams.

But Rachel just moans as her taste buds flood with Quinn's essence, and she hardly registers the hand gripping the back of her neck, just those walls that tighten every time she dips in and out and flicks and rubs.

She wants to ask Quinn how it feels, but the thought of pulling her tongue free is something she doesn't really want to think about. So she grips those hips harder, stares up at Quinn who's head is still thrown back, throat working for air, chest having, breasts bouncing, nipples hard in a desperate urge to be touched.

But then she reaches up quickly, grabs that hand around the back of her neck and moves it up to clasp around Quinn's breast. Quinn's head drops down, chin to chest as she regards Rachel and she knows immediately what she wants her to do.

So when Rachel's hand moves back down to her hips to grip once more, she pinches and rolls her nipple hard between two fingers and the pleasure just escalates that much more. It's so hot and her wolf is fucking running free through her head and all she wants to do is pin her fucking mate down and make her hers, but she has to come. She needs to come. And she can't fucking breathe because she needs it that badly.

"Make me fucking come, Rachel!"

_It's quiet. Too quiet. All the jovial banter is long gone and all that's left is Hiram staring at her, Rachel clenching her hands around the napkin on her lap and Quinn looking down at her plate as if the answer to the meaning of life suddenly appeared in it._

"_I know what's going on, Quinn, and I don't like it very much."_

"_Dad…"_

"_No Rachel, this needs to be said." Hiram adjusts himself on his chair before clasping his hands together and settling them on the dining table, "I know how secretive it is and I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but if you're going to be dating my daughter, I need to know she'll be safe."_

_Quinn's head snaps up, "I'll protect her with everything I have, sir."_

"_How can you?"_

_Quinn's brow furrows, "Excuse me?"_

"_How can you protect my daughter with your condition?"_

_Rachel and Quinn spare a glance, __"__Condition?__"_

_Hiram sighs, __"__I__'__m not stupid, Quinn. The sneaking around, my daughter leaving in the dead of night to see you, the shooting, the healing…__"_

_Quinn licks her lips, wondering if she should manufacture some form of lie, but with the way Hiram stares back at her, she knows it__'__ll be futile. _

"Rachel, I'm almost there! Oh fuck, I'm so close baby! Do me, do me hard."

So Rachel does, she flicks and rubs her tongue as hard as she can against Quinn's tightening walls, she swallows the come that Quinn offers and silently pleads for Quinn to come soon so she can taste the bounty she deserves.

And Quinn collapses onto her back, both hands teasing her breasts, pinching her nipples like her life depends on it. Her hips ride that tongue, pushing it deeper and faster inside her. She luxuriates in the way that Rachel's nails dig deep into her hips and she knows she's almost there, right at the edge of her orgasm, but she needs something, she needs something else.

"Fuck my clit." She begs, eyes screwed shut, "Fuck my clit, Rach."

And in the midst of her own growing orgasm, with hips fucking the mattress of Quinn's bed, she pulls a hand away from her girlfriend's hip and violently skims the pads of two fingers over Quinn's clit, back and forth, over and over again.

Quinn is driven wild and her hips move twice as fast against Rachel's working mouth and before Rachel can even take a breath that her body so desperately aches for, she locks eyes with pure gold and watches as her girlfriend rips free an animalistic growl and comes, so hard and fast into her mouth, and she swallows each and every drop like it's her last meal.

And only when she pulls her tongue free and licks at her girlfriend's twitching clit, does she feel herself pushed up and made to stare into dangerous golden eyes.

"Quinn."

"_Dad, we have no idea what you're talking about." She turns her attention to her stoic girlfriend beside her, "Don't pay attention to him."_

"_Rachel, I am your father and Quinn needs to listen to what I have to say.__"_

"_I__'__m…__"__ Quinn's throat bobs as she swallows back the words, __"__I have no idea what you__'__re talking about, Mr. Berry.__"_

_Hiram blinks, taking a moment to carefully choose the words he is desperate to say. He has known the Fabray's for years, he even went to school with Russell, and ever since then, he__'__s had a suspicion. He never spoke of it, and never told Russell of his worries; she kept it in, because even to him, it sounded mad._

_But he had seen the signs; in Russell, in Judy, in Frannie, the eldest daughter, and now she had seen it in Quinn. He wasn__'__t imagining it, he knew that much. There were too many coincidences to just overlook it once more, and now that his daughter was involved, it was time to lay out his cards and say the words that had plagued him since his own childhood._

"_I__'__ve known your father since we were children, Quinn. We grew up together. I saw the way he acted some days; pent up, angry, unable to control his emotions. When he met Judy, those emotions just spiralled even more out of control. I saw the bite mark on her wrist one morning when I drove her to school, I saw the look in his eye whenever a boy came up to her and asked her out, I saw the way that he acted when it came to protecting his family. I saw it in your mother, I saw it in your sister, and I__'__ve seen it in you.__"_

_Rachel nips at her lower lip with her teeth, trying to stop herself from interfering. She__'__s sure that the frantic beat of her heart is nothing compared to her girlfriend__'__s, but as she tilts her head, she sees that Quinn is still stoic, staring, barely blinking._

"_I saw the hunting party parade the streets the night they shot that wolf. I heard them cheer about a golden wolf,__"__ Hiram's eyes flick up to Quinn's blonde hair, __"__The one with golden eyes that could __'__scare a person__'__s soul from their body__'__. So when I saw that bullet wound to your leg, I put two and two together. The advanced healing just solidified everything for me. You should have a slight limp, but you don__'__t.__"_

_Quinn's eye twitches ever so slightly, then coughs to clear her throat, __"__What are you trying to say?__"_

_Hiram glances to his daughter, then back to Quinn, __"__I__'__ve had years to think about this. Almost thirty, to be precise. I know that these things exist; things I can__'__t quite explain. Honestly, for the first few years, I thought I was going insane, but it seems I wasn__'__t. I watched your family grow, I watched as your father drove past the hospital at four in the morning, after my shift, with your sister…__"_

_The man sighs, __"__To this day, it scares me. Your sister, her body; I__'__m a doctor, Quinn, and what your sister__'__s body was doing, wasn__'__t natural.__"_

"_What…are you trying to say?__"__ Quinn asks again, cutting him off. _

_And the doctor steels himself, readying himself to finally say the words he'd held back for years, __"__You, and your family, are werewolves.__"_

"Quinn…you can control this."

Quinn growls and throws her down onto the bed, pinning her wrists down above her head with one strong hand. Rachel squeals and fights against the grip, but when Quinn's body comes to lay between her legs, she knows the battle is already lost. She feels her girlfriend's body still quake with her orgasm and when Quinn leans forward, pressing her nose to her neck, the pressure between her legs is too much to bare.

Quinn is breathing in her scent, licking the skin from time to time, almost as if she's trying to prepare it. But Rachel is too gone to even care and the fact that Quinn is doing nothing to touch her, to make that pressure between her legs explode, it just drives her crazy.

And she knows it's the wrong thing to say, especially with the wolf inside Quinn that's controlling her every move, but she bites down on Quinn's ear, earning a growl of appreciation and begs huskily, "Make me yours."

_They__'__re both silent at the table, Hiram got up to answer the phone and Rachel knows that Quinn just wants to leave. __"__I am…so sorry.__"__ Rachel whispers carefully, because she can tell Quinn's wolf wants to rip the house to shreds. Those eyes keep flickering from hazel to golden and she knows that Quinn is barely controlling it._

"_I can__'__t believe he knows.__"__ Quinn whispers, __"__I shouldn__'__t have come here, this has just proved more to him about who we are. We__'__re suppose to be a secret, Rachel; what if he tells someone else? We won__'__t be able to stop the backlash.__"_

"_My father won__'__t tell anyone, you can trust him on that. Your father is one of his best friends, he wouldn__'__t betray him and his family like that.__"_

_Quinn scoffs softly, "Yeah…but sometimes people can't control what they say in a heated moment, right?"_

"_Rachel, honey, you__r dad__ is on the phone.__"_

_And she__'__s gone and Quinn feels so unbearably alone._

_Until Hiram appears in the doorway._

Quinn feels herself being pushed to the back of her mind so that her wolf can take control. She can feel it but she can't stop it, because her wolf is so unreliably strong and it's finally telling her 'I'm taking what I want' and Rachel, fuck, Rachel, she's just sealed her own fate by telling her that.

It's her body, but her wolf has full control and all she can do is luxuriate in the scents and the tastes of her girlfriend as the wolf licks and nips at her neck. She knows what her wolf is planning, it's planning to mark her, a mark that'll be there for the rest of Rachel's life. And it's bad, because she knows that Rachel doesn't know it'll be permanent.

So she fights the Alpha with all the strength she has; a battle of wills that Rachel isn't privy to. It's hard and she can feel herself losing strength because her wolf is just that strong, and when she opens her mouth, not of her own accord, to bite down on Rachel's neck, she forces herself to the front of her mind and stops herself, just as the tips of her teeth are pressing into tan skin.

"Rach…"

As she pulls back, Rachel pulls her back in and kisses her passionately, tongues brushing together in a hormonal dance. And Quinn melts into the touch, and her wolf is pushed further back into her mind, and just as if Rachel knew exactly what she was thinking, she pulls back and whispers against pouting lips, "You have control."

And Quinn, eyes still pure gold stares back at her girlfriend, feeling her wolf try to slam itself back into assertion, nods hesitantly through heavy breaths, "I have control."

"_I think this conversation will go a little better if my daughter wasn't here to listen in, correct?" Hiram asks rhetorically as he takes his seat back down at the dinner table. He smiles gently, and Quinn can tell it's his professional smile that he uses with patients, and all of a sudden she thinks he's come back into the room with a vast array of scalpels hidden under his shirt, ready to cut her apart._

"_Mr Berry, before you say anything, can I just say something?"_

_He leans back and nods, "Go right ahead."_

"_I know you__'__ve heard about the attack on Michael Hunter,__"__ Hiram's eyes darken, __"__And I know you__'__ve seen her scars, but I just want you to know that I would never hurt Rachel like that. I wasn__'__t even aware I was an Alpha back then, my wolf was growing in power, and I had none of the training I have now to stop it. I__'__m not a monster, I__'__m just a eighteen year old girl that wants to protect her girlfriend.__"_

"_I__'__ve known you for a long time, Quinn. I know you__'__d never hurt my daughter, it__'__s just not in you. I have to admit though, I wasn__'__t sure if it was you or your father that committed the attack.__"_

"_I… yeah, it was me.__"_

_Hiram nods thoughtfully, __"And you can 'transform' at will?"_

"_Yeah, my whole family can, all werewolves can. That full moon stuff is just a myth.__"_

_Hiram smiles, __"__I thought werewolves were a myth until I met your father. I must tell you, he doesn__'__t know that I know, so we__'__ll just leave it at that, okay?__"_

_Quinn frowns, __"__So, you__'__re not going to tell anyone?__"_

"_I don__'__t see the use in telling anyone. Up until Michael, there had been no wolf attacks in Lima, and now that you have the training to control your strength, I__'__m sure we won__'__t have a repeat.__"_

"_I hope not.__"_

_Hiram sighs softly, __"__I__'__m telling you now, Quinn, as Rachel's father, if you hurt her in any way, I won__'__t stand by and watch. If I see any mark on that girl, I will come after you, do you understand?__"_

_Quinn fights back the growl that sits at the bottom of her throat and nods, __"__I understand.__"_

"_Good.__"_

_They sit in silence, Hiram sipping at her glass of water, Quinn listening to the soft tones of her girlfriend in the kitchen._

"_You__'__re pretty easy going about this whole werewolf thing.__"_

_Hiram laughs quietly, __"__Oh, I__'__m calm now, because I__'__ve had time to think about it. You should have seen me in High School, though; I locked every window and door in the house on a full moon and refused to go out. I__'__m sure my parents thought I was going insane.__"_

_Quinn chuckles, __"__You__'__d have been safe indoors.__"__ Hiram's head tilts ever so slightly, __"__Wolves have an issue with opening doors; no hands.__"_

_Hiram laughs, and Quinn knows that it__'__s going to be okay._

"Quinn…" Rachel takes Quinn's hand, taking it on a tour down her body, over sensitive perky breasts, down and across each individual rib, down to a quivering stomach, dipping a finger down into the bellybutton before dragging it all the way down to rest on her panties. "Take them off."

And Quinn bites down hard on her bottom lip, because she's still pent up with all this strength that only hunting can get rid of. She can't touch Rachel in this condition, unless…

She grabs the waistband of Rachel's sodden black lace panties and just clear rips them from the tan body. The singer squeaks and watches as Quinn dangles the panties up near her face and fucking smirks as she sends them flying across the room where they land with a dull thud against her vanity.

Rachel has the good grace to blush by how wet her panties are, but now Quinn is looming back over her, hands planted by her head, "Help me…"

And Rachel understands.

"You're trying to be gentle…" Rachel whispers, brushing a her hand through Quinn's golden mane, taking in the shine of Quinn's eyes as they explore her now naked body. "I'll help." And she wants to, because she's a virgin and she knows Quinn will never live it down if she hurts her during their first time.

"I'll help you…" She whispers, taking one of Quinn's hands and allowing the girl to adjust herself, resting herself beside her body, "I'll help you…" And she leans up and kisses quivering lips, and she knows that the wolf is trying to fight back for control as that hand dips lower and lower and lower until finally they rest on an aching wet pussy. "Quinn…"

The blonde buries her head in Rachel's neck, kissing and nipping at the skin, but much more gentler than before, but Rachel stills Quinn's hand on her, just so she can tame herself just that little bit more before they go further.

"Do you…" She swallows as she feels Quinn's tongue against the base of her throat, "Need to mark me?"

Quinn growls against tan skin, because she knows that this is the question that will seal their relationship. It's the question that will undoubtedly answer all the other questions. Yes, they're going to get married. Yes, they're going to be a family. And all because of one mark. Rachel is Quinn's mate. There is _no one _else.

Rachel's about to ask again through the silence, but she feels Quinn nod gently against her, pressing a kiss back to her throat.

"You can…" She whispers, "If you want."

"It's permanent…and…"

"I know what it means, Quinn." She continues to brush her hand through Quinn's locks, hoping to soothe the pounding of both their hearts. Rachel is terrified, though she won't show it because she knows Quinn will take it the wrong way. She's not scared about being 'Quinn's property', that thought damn near excites her, she's more terrified of the fact she has to be bitten to do it. "I trust you."

Quinn cries, silently against Rachel's shoulder because that's the first time anyone has ever said that to her. It's only three words, and I love you always hits her heart just the way it's suppose to, but hearing that her mate finally, after all they've been through, that she trusts her, just tears her apart and her wolf, ever violent and strong screams straight the back of her mind and howls in surrender. Her wolf knows what Quinn is going to do, it knows that Rachel trusts them both; something they've both struggled to prove to brunette.

There's no reason to fight anymore.

"I love you…" Quinn whispers, pressing a kiss to Rachel's clavicle, licks the skin gently with the tip of her tongue and just as Rachel opens her mouth to return to endearment, Quinn's bares her teeth and bites down hard.

"_Well, Quinn. I have to say, it was a pleasure having your company."_

_He sounds happy, but Quinn can smell how unsure he is about her. He knows something is going on with her, and maybe her whole family and when he grips her hand in a goodbye handshake, he grips a little more harder then is strictly necessary._

_Rachel, obvious to what is happening before her, just beams, because in her mind, dinner has been a success. Well, a mild success, but still a success at that._

_Quinn doesn't even flinch when Hiram grips hard, and the gleam in his eyes immediately let her on to what she's done wrong. He's gripping hard, hard enough to hurt anyone's hand or at least make them yelp out, but she's just there, content, eyes hard as she watches him._

"_Thanks for having me," She finally says, pulling her hand back, "Sorry I have to go so early, but my mom and dad are expecting me back and it's school tomorrow."_

"_Of course, of course," He replies with the flick of a hand and a smile, "Don't be a stranger, okay?"_

"_Of course not." And all she can think as Rachel takes her hand and drags her to the door, is that she'd rather eat grit than come back to the Berry residence again._

_They__'__re both outside, under the gentle glow of the porch light and Rachel is smiling up at her, __"__So…everything is okay?_

"_Yeah, I think so. He__'__s obviously still a bit wary, especially with the fact I__'__m dating you, but I think he__'__ll be okay. He__'__s had a long time to think about all of this, I don__'__t think the idea of werewolves is still weird to him.__"_

_Rachel sighs, __"__If I__'__d have known that he had some sort of idea, I wouldn__'__t have invited you. But, in a way, I__'__m glad she knows, I wouldn__'__t want to keep a secret from her, not after Leroy.__"_

_Quinn nods, __"__I know. I__'__m worried, obviously, but it__'__s kind of nice that someone knows. I trust your dad.__"_

"_Good,__"__ Rachel pushes herself up and kisses Quinn gently, enjoying the silent safety that Quinn's lips hold._

"_I love you.__"_

"_I love you too.__"_

The body beneath her tenses and she barely hears the gasp of pain through the roaring in her ears. She feasts on the blood like her final meal and relishes in the metallic taste that floods her mouth. It's not a particularly nice taste, after all, she is swallowing the blood of her mate, but the thought of finally knowing that Rachel is _hers _and hers alone, just makes the blood taste like her favorite candy.

"Q-Quinn…" It's there, barely, through the heavy roaring in her ears and the deep and husky of her proud and sated wolf. But Rachel's body has gone slack beneath her so she pulls her teeth from the wound and licks at it softly, wiping away the remaining blood. It isn't a deep wound, just enough to split skin and bleed, but Quinn knows it's there for life and as she licks the remaining blood away and presses a kiss to the sore wound, she smiles with pride.

She looks up and presses a soft kiss to Rachel's lips, watching as those gorgeous brown eyes, full of emotion, finally open once more to regard her. Inside, she panics, worried that Rachel hated the whole experience, but then gently, Rachel smiles and leans up to kiss her nose with a grimace.

"Ouch."

"Yeah, it'll hurt for a few days…"

Rachel fingers the wound with the tips of her fingers, looking down at it with shining eyes, "And it'll always be there?"

"It'll fade over time…but it'll always be there. I'd suggest makeup."

Rachel chuckles and drops her hand from her shoulder, turning to look back up at her girlfriend, "Noted." Then she sighs when Quinn's still stoic hand brushes against her aching clit, "Are you going to take care of that…?" She asks with a whisper.

Quinn nods, "I still need…" But Rachel smiles and it effectively cuts her off because Rachel's hand is already sliding back down her body and resting atop her hand, "Are you sure?"

"I belong to you now, Quinn. You've marked me, you're in my heart and now…" She leans up, propping herself up on an elbow, flicking her tongue out against Quinn's lower lip, "I need you inside me."

Quinn rubs her finger gently against Rachel's clit, in small little circles that has the singer keening. She whines and arches her back, watching Quinn's hand move against her with hooded eyes, and Quinn just watches each and every expression that drifts across her mate's face.

"This okay…?" She asks softly and at Rachel's affirmative nod, she drags her finger down Rachel's slit and circles the sopping entrance. Quinn groans, because fuck, Rachel wasn't even this soaked when she was riding her stomach in the classroom. Had the bite turned her on? Had the thought of being _owned_ turned her on?

"Just go slow…okay?"

Quinn leans down and captures Rachel's lips with her own, and slowly, as their lips and tongue brush together, memorizing one another's tastes, Quinn's taste still distinct on Rachel's tongue, Quinn pushes her middle finger in slowly, thumb rubbing soothing circles on her clit.

She hears Rachel's heart thump harshly against her chest and she calms her down with a few more well placed flicks of her tongue, but continues to push in, and only when she feels that particular barrier, she pulls back.

"Are you ready?"

Rachel swallows, because this is a huge decision. After all their waiting, and Rachel's 'wait until 25' rule was well out of the window, it was finally going to happen. And she couldn't be happier. A girl that would go to the end of the earth for her, who would protect her and never hurt her, was here, right now, ever loving and willing to share something special.

"I'm ready."

And that finger is pushed further and Rachel bites down hard on her bottom lip to fight off the scream of pain. It burns her whole lower body and it feels as if she's been stabbed in her lower abdomen, but as Quinn holds onto her, finger still inside her, pressing gentle kisses to the mark on her shoulder, the pain disappears as quickly as it came, almost as if it was never real.

"I'm…"

Quinn smiles down at her and nods, "Not a virgin anymore."

"I feel…" Rachel chuckles to herself, "Why do I feel like I need to hold a party to celebrate this?"

But Quinn just smirks, and she feels herself to melt into the bed, because that golden hue to Quinn's eyes just seem to sparkle in the sunlight. "You'll be celebrating soon."

And she slowly begins to move her finger inside that hot wet heat, and she feels herself get wet all over again as she feels those walls tense around her. She watches Rachel, watches her hips rise and fall with the gentle tempo of her finger, watches Rachel's face when she teases her clit with a fleeting touch that disappears when her finger is pulled back out.

It's a delicious torture that sets both their bodies alight, but when Rachel groans and all but demands, "Two…" Quinn feels a flood of moisture rush between her clenched legs. She does what her mate orders and adds a second and pushes back in so slowly, but not because it might hurt Rachel, but because she wants Rachel to beg.

She wants Rachel to beg, just like she had. She wants Rachel to beg Quinn to fuck her, to make her forget her own name, to come so hard that she can see those fucking metaphorical stars that she adores.

Rachel's hips grind up and down, pushing Quinn's probing fingers deep inside and she chokes out a moan because those fingers are so deep inside her, filling her, fucking her to within an inch of her life.

And Quinn goes faster, panting with exertion as her arm works at a speed that only her wolf uses to run. She can hear the sticky wet sounds between her girlfriend's thighs, and as she watches herself drive Rachel to the brink of an explosion orgasm, she feels her own rip straight through her body.

And just at the last second, she adds a third, and Rachel _screams _because it feels so fucking good, and she's sitting up, wrapping her arms tight around Quinn's neck as she rides those fingers like her life depends on it.

"Oh fuck…make me fucking come. Please…oh God please, I'll do anything…please just make me come."

And Quinn just moans, because fuck, Rachel's lips are right against her ear, and those whines that erupt from those plump lips are so fucking delicious that all she can do is attend to her girlfriend's needs.

So she holds the singer close, one arm wrapped around a frantically working waist, while her other hand fucks her girlfriend's hole, the palm of her hand brushing and hitting her sensitive clit with each and every thrust.

And Rachel's moaning her name, burying her face in Quinn's hair as she clenches around those three perfect fingers as the most brutal fucking orgasm rushes through her body and just engulfs her. And through it all, the way her orgasm seems to fuck her body all over again, and the way those fingers bend and hit something _perfect _inside her, she screams and squirts long and hard over the palm of Quinn's hand.

And she sees those stars she adores so much.

She feels kisses pressed up the length of her back, right over her spine, and it's so soothing that she feels like falling asleep all over again. She barely feels the ache in her shoulder when she turns her head to look over it, because all she sees is wet blonde hair and shining hazel eyes as they flick up toward her.

"Wondered what it would take to wake you. I already took a shower and had something to eat."

Rachel whines and buries her face in Quinn's pillow, "You exhausted me."

She barely hears Quinn chuckle and then those kisses are being placed up her back again, and she melts into those soft lips as they caress her. It feels so perfect and she feels so loved that it brings tears to her eyes. And as Quinn sooths her with kisses, she cries softly into the pillow, because everything feels so perfect.

She doesn't think of her father and the stress the divorce is putting him under. She doesn't think of Leroy and how he's enjoying his new life with Michael like he's done nothing wrong. She doesn't think of all the hurt she's endured from the split up of her family. She just thinks about Quinn and their love for one another and when Quinn reaches her ear and presses a kiss to it, she just sobs and she feels Quinn smile against her, because she knows exactly why she's crying. Because she feels the exact same way.

Later that night, when Russell returns from work and Judy from her day out with the girls from her book club, they sit down together and eat takeout. It feels so weird, watching Russell Fabray pull out two twenties from his wallet and pay the delivery boy, because all the Fabray's eat is home cooked meals.

Judy makes it a rule to never eat take out, to never eat anything that she hasn't hand prepared, but as they sit down together and eat, jovial banter being thrown across the dining table and both of Quinn's parents smirking at them because they know exactly what's gone on; two showers for Quinn and one for Rachel couldn't rid the smell of their love making, and Rachel is all but sure that they can hear their daughter's thoughts.

"Why did you come around anyway?" Quinn asks around a large mouthful of chicken fried rice.

"Quinn, please." Judy ushers with a roll of her eyes.

"Sorry," Quinn mumbles again, taking extra time to chew and then swallow before asking Rachel again. "Not that I wasn't happy to see you." She adds with a beaming smile.

The singer blushes and bounces in her seat, letting her knife and fork come to rest on her plate. "I received a very interesting package today! Both booklets for Julliard and NYU came today."

Quinn's smile drops, but Russell and Judy's remain.

"That's fantastic," Judy beams, "It's almost time to enroll, right?"

"You better get on that, Quinn. You want to be first in line to be accepted." Russell adds with a wink.

And as Rachel, Russell and Judy talk about their plans for New York, and how much the singer is looking forward to the open auditions for Julliard, Quinn just sits back in her seat, fork toying with chicken and rice that no longer looks appetizing, because she can't get excited about college, no matter how hard she tries.

Because she just can't afford it.


	8. Grey Skies

The thought of asking her mother and father for the money disturbs her to no end. As an Alpha, she's suppose to be the leader of their small but honorary pact. But if she went to her parents with her tail tucked between her legs, literally, her pride would be shattered into tiny insignificant pieces that could never be put back together.

It's a stupid ideal, but one she can't shake herself from. She's an Alpha. She's the leader of the pack, regardless of the fact that she's only a teenager and her father is more of a leader than anyone else in their family. But she has the blood. She's the leader. She's the Alpha.

She can't run to her parents and beg for their money. She can't beg for scraps.

So as she flips through her NYU booklet, the same one that had been posted to Rachel's door only the day before, she lets out a dejected sigh. It looks stunning really and she knows she's enjoy herself there.

But as she looks up from the booklet and at her laptop, she sees that one bookmark that's haunted her for just over a day. The tuition fees page for New York University. She crunches the numbers hourly; trying to figure out how to stretch her money. She only has $2000 dollars remaining in her saving's account, and that would probably have to go on books and the down payment on the apartment Rachel so desperately wants to rent.

And her heart just shatters all over again, so she shuts her NYU booklet, minimizes the page on her laptop, rests her forehead softly on the edge of her desk and just shuts her eyes.

Rachel's still ecstatic about Julliard; she's already preparing her song for the open auditions; the same auditions that will seal her fate in New York. She doesn't seem fazed, but then again, Rachel Berry never gets nervous, regardless of what she's doing.

So as she chirps on and on about Julliard, Quinn just sits back and pretends to listen as she crunches the numbers once more in her head.

Her scholarship went straight out of the window when she left the Cheerio's, even then, she didn't really want to do cheerleading at NYU. She wanted to do something artistic, like photography or animation or _something _but not fucking cheerleading.

Financial aid from the university itself might prove somewhat beneficial, but then again, they wouldn't cough up much. She had $2000 and with the addition of some money she'd been saving up since giving away her college fund, she had an addition $523.

$2523. It was no where near enough.

She plasters a smile on her face when Rachel sits down on her lap and wraps her arms around her neck. She isn't talking about Julliard anymore. No, now she's talking about 'their' apartment and how they're going to decorate it. Rachel talks about buying a cosy one bed roomed place and buying fancy wallpaper and leather couches and Quinn honestly think the girl needs a reality check because seriously; what sort of student can afford leather couches?

But she just smiles and nods when Rachel asks her if the idea sounds 'lovely'. Then the smile fades when Rachel goes on another one of her tirades, because those numbers are back, spinning and spiralling out of control.

And her wolf is going dizzy in the back of her mind, snapping angrily at those numbers that constantly annoy and never leave.

"Fabray." Mike waves her over when she enters the Library. She was hoping for some form of solitude; away from Rachel and the other members of Glee that are practically creaming their pants over college. Finn and Puck are talking about OSU. Brittany and Santana are talking about UCLA. No one seems to shut up about it. She can't seem to get away from the fucking talk about colleges and it's driving her up the bastard wall!

"Chang." But she sits beside her friend, because if she had to choose one person to talk to right now who actually makes her feel better, it's Mike Chang.

"How's tricks?" He asks, glancing up momentarily from his PSP. He's going retro today, playing Metal Gear Solid: Acid. It's one of Quinn's favorite games and she silently curses. She's dying to just immerse herself in a game and forget everything around her. Even hunting doesn't seem to help anymore. As soon as she transforms, her wolf just tends to sit in one place while her human side still wonders how she'll get to college.

Her wolf is impatient, she knows that much and deep down, she knows it's beginning to resent her. She's stressing herself out, she isn't hunting when her wolf demands it and she's constantly exhausted from staying up all night researching financial aids.

The growling in the back of her mind is a constant reminder; a warning. Her wolf is telling her to sort her shit out before it spirals out of control. But no matter how hard she tries, the spiral just keeps going around in a vicious circle that refuses to end.

"Had better days." Quinn grumbles, "Don't you have Home Ec right now?"

Mike just shrugs, "I don't really need to know how to bake a cake, Fabray." Then he adds with his trademark cheeky grin, "Now sushi. I'd be done for that."

"Could you be anymore Asian?"

He pauses. His thumbs stop moving, but only for a fraction of a second before continuing, "I have no idea. I could try?"

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Sorry, I thought you were just being stereotypical." Another pause, "Blondie."

"Burn." She chuckles gently, for the first time in what seems like forever before slumping back in her seat, "You got another one of them stashed away?"

Mike actually takes the time to pause his game and regards his friend, which is quite shocking to say the least. Mike Chang pauses his game for no one. Not even Tina.

"You seriously want to geek out at school?"

"I'll do anything to get my mind off of college."

Mike frowns, "What's up with college? You were psyched to go a few months ago."

"Have you got another PSP, or what?"

He slides his own PSP over, eyes still locked on his friend as she picks it up and unpauses the game. He doesn't care that she's playing _his _save, well, he's not worried because he knows that she's a competent player.

But he can feel the tension radiate off of her. He noticed she was closing herself off. While everyone else spoke about college and what they were going to do in regards to classes, Quinn just sat quietly and seemed to stare into space.

He's worried for his friend but for now he'll just sit back and let her play; let her force all the tension out onto the PSP in her clenched hands.

Her father slaps a twenty in her hand when she says she's going out. She just glances at it, there, crisp in the palm of her hand and asks, "Can I have that in two tens?"

Russell jut raises an eyebrow and takes the twenty back before replacing it. She races back upstairs and slides one ten into an old discarded shoe box she had stored under her bed before storming back downstairs and out the door with a barely there goodbye to her parents.

She's at the Lima Bean, using that last remaining ten in her pocket on a small moderately priced coffee. Nothing special. She usually goes for a Cappuccino, but the price of it compared to a regular coffee was just abysmally stupid, so she decides on just a regular black.

It takes like crap, regardless of how many sugars she puts in it, but she just needs something to drink while she flicks through the newspaper before her. She flicks and flicks and flicks until she gets to the page she wants.

And with a sip of her drink and an almighty grimace at the taste, she settles into her search.

Her job search.

"You have to understand that there's an art to this job." He says, adjusting his belt under his protruding stomach. He has the speckle of powdered sugar just under his bottom lip and he hasn't seemed to notice it. She's dying to point it out to him, but he seems to be a bit on an asshole, so she just stays silent. "A real art."

"Seriously?"

He nods. "You have to do everything in a certain order. It's like a well thought out football game. Everything is thought through, nothing is left unattended to."

"It's just washing cars. It's not like I'm putting together a nuclear bomb."

Bruce O'Malley, owner of O'Malley Car Spritz just frowns, "I don't think you're right for this job."

"No, I don't think so either."

"F-F-F-Fabraaaaaaay."

She rolls her eyes and laughs, "Changster."

"Where you at? I was in the neighbourhood and called around but your parents said you'd gone out."

"Yeah I'm just…" She sighs and looks back at the Hot Topic she'd just recently left. The job had sounded safe enough; till operative. But she'd taken one step into the store, saw all the baby Goth gear, the pierced black clad shop employees and bolted. She might not be a super uptight Christian anymore, but she can't shake the feeling that if she works there she'll be condemning herself to hell. "Looking at an endangered species."

"You're at the Zoo?" He sounds completely confused and she just laughs, "What? Well, where are you anyway? I just got the Kinect. I wanted to show you it."

"Why buy a Kinect when you have a PS3?"

"You have the 360, duh."

She sighs softly. The thought of just sitting at home playing on the 360 with her friend sounds heavenly compared to trudging the streets for work. "Sorry Chang, I'm kinda busy today. Maybe tomorrow?"

"I'll hold you to that, Fabray."

"Catch you later."

"Laters."

Some day's, she just wishes she could tell Mike about her wolf.

The job search is fruitless, so she decides to leave it a week until new job openings appear in the paper. When she comes in late from her busy day job searching, her parents ask where she's been. She takes one look at them and lies straight through her teeth.

"Hunting."

_Quinn Fabray, I have it on good authority that you were in Hot Topic this afternoon. Why were you in such a monstrosity of a store?"_

…_**How do you even know these things?**_

_I don't know if I've told you this, but I'm a little psychic._

…_**Right. How did you know I was there?**_

_Tina was there._

_**Where else would she be? Yeah, I was there, but only for a second.**_

_Well, okay. Quinn, if you're having personal issues about your choice in music genre and taste, I'd be happy to sit and listen. I don't particularly like what you called 'Grunge' but I'd be happy to partake if that's what you want._

_**You're adorable, you know that?**_

_Why…thank you, Quinn. _

_**And bashful too.**_

_I can be much more than adorable and bashful, Quinn Fabray._

…_**Don't I know it.**_

_I seem to remember saying certain things that were quite out of character for me a week ago._

_**Don't you dare…**_

_I have no idea what you're talking about._

_**You know exactly what I'm talking about and unless you want me to take you up against a wall at school tomorrow, you'll shut your mouth.**_

…_I dare you._

Quinn smirks and her wolf howls with elation.

"I can't…I can't stop…I can't get enough of you."

"Oh…God…fuck…this is so wrong!"

And it is, because being finger fucked from behind on an empty auditorium stage is completely and undeniably wrong. Quinn holds her in a steel grip, right arm wrapped tightly around her waist while her left does sinful things between her girlfriend's legs. It's hot and it's wet and those two fingers inside Rachel feel as if they've reached heaven.

Rachel grinds herself down on Quinn's fingers, one hand clutching Quinn's right while the other threads itself through golden tendrils, holding Quinn in place as she pants heavily against the back of Rachel's neck; the feel alone of Rachel's tight pussy around her fingers enough to drive her to the edge.

"Fuck me…fuck me hard…Oh God, why did I agree to this?"

Quinn knows why they both can't control themselves. The pheromones and aphrodisiac she exudes makes it difficult for Rachel to turn anything away, so when Quinn slides up behind her while Rachel is in the middle of practicing her scales, the smell alone makes Rachel melt against her girlfriend and she even holds her panties to the side when Quinn fingers slide up her thighs. She's completely at Quinn's mercy, and she fucking loves it. She loves being dominated, she loves the violent urge that rips through the two of them as they fuck one another to within an inch of their already breaking sanity.

For Quinn, it's simple. Her wolf, no matter how sated it may be, still demands more. It still demands to feel and smell and touch and pleasure Rachel. The feeling of Rachel's clenching pussy around her fingers and tongue feels like a drug to her and her wolf. It's torturous but oh so delicious.

So as Rachel is driven crazy from the pheromones that fuck her body anyway, she has to deal with the strong thrust of two fingers inside her and the hard palm of a hand against her clit, brushing and pressing in all the right places.

And then she's coming, screaming that high note that she remembers from Sectionals her Sophomore year. She's on stage, belting that final note, but this time, Quinn Fabray's fingers are deep inside her.

And she loves every fucking second of it.

But then Quinn's chest is pressed against her beck and her nose is running softly up and down her neck. Smelling her scent, breathing in, luxuriating in it. "Are you okay?"

Quinn squeezes her eyes shut and nods against her girlfriend's neck, "Yeah. I'm fine."

Nothing could be further from the truth.

At the park where it all began she can't help but be swept upon a stream of melancholia. This is where it all began. In this little rundown park with it's much too small slide and seen better days swing. Rachel had first seen her as a wolf here, so when she returns in that very same form, she can't help but be overcome with the memories. She watched Rachel cry each and every night. She sat and made herself known to a human, knowing full well what the consequences were. She allowed the singer to cuddle up to her and snuggle against her thick golden fur. She realized she was in love here.

She trots over to the swings, snuffing at the dirt as she does so. Rachel hasn't been for a while, but then again, why would she have to? The star of Glee Club was over the moon with practically everything and she might as well puke rainbows whenever she's around Quinn.

But now the tables have turned. When she's not at school, painting on the fake smile, she's job hunting and when she's not job hunting, she's here. Sat in the park that is meaningless to anyone else that passes it.

And as she thinks about money for College, money for an apartment and just getting to New York, she's so unbelievably overcome that her wolf cocks its head back, opens it's mouth and howls with such a deep agony that it brings tears to the Alpha's eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong." She jumps up from her backpack and turns to face her father who stands by her bedroom door in a silent vigil. It unnerves her, that even though she surpasses her father in both strength and agility, he still pops up like a ghost.

"There's nothing the matter." She shrugs her shoulders in emphasis before leaning over her desk for her Chemistry book.

"I haven't been able to hear your thoughts for two weeks. Usually during this time you're mind is crazy thinking about that Regional's competition you go to." He pauses and shrugs his shoulders, "Or food."

"I just want to keep my thoughts to myself for a little while, dad." She zips her back up and holsters it on her shoulder as she turns back to him, "It's nothing serious."

But the way his eyes narrow slightly and the way they drift up and down her body in silent contemplation tells her that he doesn't believe her. In fact, he probably thinks she's talking crap just to push him away from the scent of his accusations.

But there's nothing he can do. He just nods his head and pats her gently on the shoulder as she passes him in the doorway. "You can talk to me, you know."

She doesn't even look him in the eye as she walks away, "I know."

Mr. Schuester is babbling on about Regionals. Quite naturally, the competition is only two weeks away and they haven't even settled on a set list. The group looks entirely too bored as the Glee Instructor names of potential artists up on the whiteboard. It's all post modern and entirely too boring to win a Regionals competition.

Rachel is arguing, trying in vain to get her point across. Original songs were so last year, and honestly, the judges would be expecting it from them. So they needed to find a song that would prove to the judges that they deserves to go back to Nationals and win this time.

So as Rachel argues, Quinn sits beside her, eyes glued on a book. It's To Kill a Mockingbird, and deep inside she wishes she could just read it, but stuffed between the pages is a folded up Jobs Weekly page and instead of her eyes skimming the words that being peace to her turbulent mind and send her on a journey, they're instead searching through potential jobs with a good enough pay check.

Her girlfriend only glances at her from time to time, and usually it's just to make Quinn nod her head in agreement with whatever Rachel said to Mr. Schuester, so she isn't too worried about getting caught.

But then the arguments have stopped and all the Glee Club are nodded and murmuring in agreement with one another about what they should do. Once again, a duet and then a group number that would be settled the next day.

And as she stands to leave, her hand clasped to shut the book, her eyes land on an interesting ad.

"Hm."

"Baby?" Rachel questions over her shoulder with a smile.

"Coming."

It feels so good to run. As her paws thunder on the wet ground, it feels as if she's leaving all her troubles behind. Out here, in her family forest, she doesn't have to worry about Glee Club or money or college or Rachel. Her mind is only ever focused on her next step and where it's going to take her.

It's so utterly intoxicating that she wishes she never had to stop. She wishes she could just keep running and bottle up all that pent up exhilaration just so she could uncap it and feel it once more. She dashes and avoids fallen logs, snuffs at rabbit burrows and howls into the hollow caverns just for fun, she rolls around in the dirt and gets her usually pristine fur matted and dirty.

It's like she's a kid again.

"_Daddy. I'm not sure." Little eight year old Quinn Fabray glances up at her father who is already stripping off his shirt. They're out in the middle of a dank forest on the outskirts of the town. It's safe, well, how safe one could be out in the open air._

"_What are you not sure about, Sunshine?" He crouches down beside her and plants a heavy hand on her tiny shoulder, "Are you worried about transforming again?"_

_She just nods, tears welling up in her eyes. She still remembers the pain of when she first transformed when she turned seven. She still remembers that searing heat the engulfed her entire body and the way her bones clicked and broke and snapped into horrible positions. She remembers the fur. She wasn't suppose to have fur. She was seven years old, she was suppose to wear pretty dresses._

_She was a monster._

"_I don' wanna be a monster, daddy."_

_Russell sighs gently. He had gone through the same thing with his eldest daughter. The conversation seemed to be on repeat. _

"_Do you think daddy is a monster, Quinnie?"_

_Quinn stares up at him with wide eyes before shaking her head violently, hair whipping against her plump cheeks, "You can't be a monster! You're my daddy!"_

"_And you're my little Quinnie." He pauses as the realization sinks in, "What's the difference…?"_

_Little Quinn Fabray wrings her hands together in silent contemplation, before landing on the one answer that every child gives their parents, "I 'unno."_

"_Don't know." He scolds lightly, "English, sweetie."_

"_Sorry, daddy."_

_Then he's standing up again and looking down at her with such blistering warmth in his eyes, "You'll never be a monster, Quinn."_

"_I don' want you to be a monster either, daddy…"_

_He grins, "I know baby, I know."_

_He coaches her and tells her and talks her through every aspect of transforming. By the end of it all, she feels as if her head will explode with all the information. Actually, she just really wants to nap._

"_Daddy, I'm tired. Can I have a nap?"_

_He wipes the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief and shakes his head lightly, "We're almost in the middle of the forest, sweetie. It won't be long now."_

_Quinn sighs heavily and stomps her feet as she follows her commanding father. She's exhausted, she's hungry, she's thirsty, she wants to have a nap, she wants to watch cartoons. She can't do any of that while she's out in the middle of a forest!_

"_I wanna go home!"_

_Russell turns back to her and rolls his eyes, "Honey, I know you're tired, but just a little further." Then he pauses, taking in the way that sweat drips down his baby daughter's forehead, the way her hair sticks to her cheeks and neck. She's running on her last tether. This is exactly what he needed._

_He needed to goad her into changing._

"_Can I have a piggy back?" She asks with wide hopeful eyes._

"_No."_

_She pouts, "Why not?"_

"_Because I won't have a weak daughter."_

_Her mouth opens and she stomps her foot in defiance, "I'm not weak!"_

"_You can't even walk into the middle of a forest, sweetie. What am I suppose to believe?"_

"_I'm not weak!" She even puffs out her little chest, "I'll keep going!" And she walks ahead, and she's only a few steps in front when she realizes that her father isn't following her anymore. "Daddy?" She turns back and he's sat down on the floor, legs stretched out, hands planted firmly behind him as he leans back._

"_We're taking a rest. I don't want you collapsing, Quinnie."_

"_I won't!" She sputters, "I can! I can keep going!"_

_But Russell shakes his head, pushing back a tuft of blonde hair that had flopped down in front of his eyes, "I'm not too sure, honey. Better safe than sorry."_

"_I can do it though!" She actually jumps up into the air and stomps both feet onto the solid ground. Hands are clenched at her sides and she feels them shaking. She never wants to weak. She doesn't want to be the weakest link in the family. She wants to be as strong as her sister. She wants be a strong as her mother. She wants to be as strong as her _father.

"_Daddy, I can do it!"_

"_Sorry, Sunshine."_

_And she just explodes, because the overwhelming of knowing that even her father thinks she's too weak to continue just rips her apart from the inside out._

"_I'm not weak!" She shouts, vaguely hearing her own voice as an overbearing pain rips through her body. It engulfs her, it swallows her whole and she feels as if she's spiralling into a pit of pain and desperation. She desperately tries to claw her way back out, but she's already on the floor, scratching at the dirt._

_She can't move. When she tries to extend her hand out to reach for her father, who simply sits there and watches with a look of pure satisfaction on his face, she feels the bones in her arms snap, almost in tandem. She tries to scream out, but the pain, too agonizing to bare won't even allow that simple merciful action. _

_So she lies there. And little eight year old Quinn Fabray feels a pain that no one should ever have the displeasure of feelings while her father watches on with a smile on his face._

_She wakes and the first thing she notices is that the sun is already beginning to set upon the forest. Russell is at her side, fingering her hair, or…what seems to be her hair. It's…all over._

_She jumps up and only then just notices the fact she had four legs and collapses all over again into a heap on the forest floor._

"_Careful, Sunshine. You're not used to walking yet. Take your time, get your sea legs."_

_The urge to call out to him is overbearing, and she tries, but nothing works. He just stares at her as her small snout opens and closes, only the light whimpering of her wolf escaping from her throat. It's terrifying. It wasn't a dream. She truly was a wolf. That day a year ago wasn't a dream._

"_You can't speak. Try and speak to me in your mind."_

_Quinn cocks her head._

"_You know when you're at school and your trying to work out a really hard math problem?" He smiles when Quinn lets out a huff through her nose. She never did like math. "You do it in your head right? Instead of thinking about a math problem, try and talk to me. I'll be able to hear you."_

_It takes two hours for her to finally open her mind to her father's. It's tiring and unbelievably stressing, but when she listens to her father speak without him opening his mouth, she jumps up with joy._

_And collapses again._

_He chuckles, "Sunshine, you're legs are still going to be rubbery. Slowly, try to walk okay? Then we'll go home."_

_She doesn't really want to get up again, because the floor was damn hard. But hesitantly, she pushes out her front paws and on shaky back legs, pushes herself up off the floor. All four legs feel as if they want to buckle under her weight, but she's only tiny, so tiny that from belly to floor, there's only eight inches between them._

"_You'll grow with time." Russell comments as she looks down between her shaking front legs and realizing how small she was. She may have been only eight, but she was a lot taller than that! "Trust me."_

_And she does. The trust she has in her father is one that could never be shaken and when he stands up and watches her trot around the small clearing, paws hesitantly hitting the dirt as she walked, she knew he was proud._

_And when he openly laughed, a large bellowing laugh that made her tiny tail wag in the air when she ran off into a dash and rolled around in the dirt, she knew she wasn't weak._

"Quinn…?"

The blonde glances quickly over to the passenger seat before returning to the road. She's driving Rachel home after school. It's something Quinn all but demanded when Rachel officially became her mate. It's a protection barrier. It's a way of Quinn knowing that her mate is safe.

Drivers these days were abysmal.

"Are you okay?" Rachel watches her openly, "I only ask because lately you've been a little closed off." Then she pauses, "Is it the sex? Oh my, am I not giving you enough?"

Quinn chuckles, "Rach, baby…you're giving me enough. You're perfect," She glances at the singer in the corner of her eye and smiles, "It's not the sex."

"Then may I ask why you're appearing so closed off? Is it what I said about Hot Topic? Honestly, I'm not bothered if you want to listen to new genres of music."

Quinn bites down on her inner cheek, all but trying to keep the bellowing laugh from escaping. Even her wolf is howling with laughter.

"It's not about Hot Topic, baby. I just have a lot of my mind, okay?"

"Can I know what that is?" Quinn remains silent, "As your mate, I expressly demand you tell me what you're thinking about."

Quinn pulls up outside Rachel's house and looks to her, "You're using your status as my mate against me?"

And the singer beams, pearly white teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun, "I am."

And it's a good argument, but the thought of telling Rachel what the problem is, was entirely too mortifying to think about. How would she feel if she knew that she was broke, penniless, skint…?

She was suppose to be the strong one in the relationship. She was suppose to be the one that had the money to spend on her mate, spend money re-decorating their apartment in New York. She was suppose to have the money to take that journey with her. She was suppose to be by Rachel's side; standing by her through each and ever trial and tribulation they both went through.

She was to be front row and centre when Rachel made her debut on Broadway.

"I'll tell you eventually. Right now, I just want to deal with it on my own."

Rachel seems less than impressed, so Quinn does the only thing she can do to sate her girlfriend. She leans forward, pulls down her sweater at the neck ever so slightly and brushes her lips over the faded mark on the collarbone.

"I love you," She whispers against the tan flesh, pressing a kiss in silent promise.

She feels the tension almost melt from Rachel's body and when she whispers, "I love you too." In return, she shuts her eyes with relief.

"Where have you been?"

"Shit!" Quinn jumps as she enters her bedroom, hands clasped to her heart as her eyes land on Mike Chang. The Kinect is hooked up to her 360 and the game is sat on the pause screen as he looks up at her. "Chang, you ass."

"Seriously, where have you been? I told you I was coming around after school."

"I was just busy…with Rachel."

"Oh…girl loving…" He shakes his head, "Don't wanna know. But seriously, it's eight pm."

"I know." She sighs, dropping tiredly onto her bed. It's so unbelievably comfortable that she could just fall asleep now without a care in the world. But Mike is looking down at her with narrowed eyes, "What?"

"Seriously. What have you been doing?" He sniffs the air, "You smell funny."

She bites down on the corner of her bottom lip, "Post sweat due to sex." Then she beams when Mike rears back, "Wanna smell?"

"EW! NO!"

Mike leaves an hour later after trying out the Kinect with her. She plays it half-heartedly, because she's that exhausted, but he doesn't seem to care. He's beating her at every single game they play, so he could hardly care less. Winning added to the gloating fund. And how Quinn hated it when he gloated.

She watches him drive away and only shuts the door behind her when his taillights fade into the distance. Wearily, she climbs up the stairs after saying a soft goodbye to both her parents and collapses onto her bed.

She's about to roll over to get into a more comfortable position when she sees it. There, right beside her 360. A small wad of cash. She grabs her phone instantly.

_Chang…?_

_I had a hunch and I guess my hunch paid off. Use it wisely, Fabray._

And so she cries herself to sleep, because the one thing she desperately tried to avoid happened without her even knowing it. And as an Alpha, the leader of her pack, her pride is ripped straight from her and she feels just like a tiny insignificant wolf.

And all for $52.

She knows that Quinn is pulling away and each and every day she looks more exhausted. Her eyes her drawn, she looks visibly pale and each and every time she sits down in Glee Club for their daily annual meeting, she looks as if she'll fall asleep in her chair.

But Rachel can't ask what's wrong, because the answer is always the same. Quinn just looks at her, puts on a small smile and says, "It's fine."

But it isn't.

"Mr. Fabray."

"Russell," The head of the household smiles, "What can I do for you, Rachel? Quinn's out, I'm afraid."

"I was hoping if you knew what was wrong with her, actually. She's coming to school increasingly withdrawn and tired."

Russell frowns, "Well, she's always out hunting. I assume she's overdoing it. I'll speak to her about it."

"Is hunting suppose to exhaust someone that much?"

His arms cross over his chest as he contemplates. Quinn had been coming home increasingly late as the week went on. She always looked exhausted and haggard. He questioned it of course, what father wouldn't? But the answer was always the same.

"I'm fine."

But she isn't.

"Michael, you're Quinn's friend, are you not?"

Mike sits back into his chair, almost as if he's trying to melt into the cheap plastic as Rachel Berry stands before him, hands planted firmly on her hips, a secret mission flaming in her eyes.

"I…yeah, why?"

"Do you know why she looks so tired?"

"I really…wouldn't know, Rachel. I know she's my friend and everything, but we don't really talk about personal things that much."

Rachel sighs, hands sliding from off her hips.

"She won't tell me what's wrong. I'm worried."

Mike smiles sadly, "Maybe she just wants to deal with whatever it is by herself."

And it clicks, because Quinn is an Alpha and all she does is talk about how she's suppose to be the leader. She's full of pride and she believes that she's strong enough to deal with anything that anyone throws at her.

Something has gone wrong and down the line, Quinn has found it hard to deal with.

She needs to know.

"What is it with people being in my room when I get home?" Quinn chuckles weakly, kicking her bedroom door shut behind her. "Not that I'm complaining."

Rachel watches as her girlfriend crosses the room, pulling out her long blonde hair from a sloppy ponytail before pulling off her shirt. She doesn't look dirty, which she always did after a big hunt. She only looked sweaty, not obnoxiously, but enough for it to raise an eyebrow.

"Where have you been?"

Quinn looks at her over her shoulder, "Hunting. Why?"

Rachel glances down to her lap, wringing her hands together softly, "Why are you lying to me…?"

It's the wrong thing to say, she realizes as soon as it comes out of her mouth. Questioning an Alpha's motives was not the right way to go about things. And although Quinn was just Quinn, Rachel knew that she was an Alpha first and foremost. Her heritage was a huge deal; something that always hung over their relationship.

And as Quinn's mate, she isn't suppose to ask questions like that. She's suppose to nod her head and go along with whatever she says. But she can't. Not when it looks like Quinn is destroying herself.

"I'm not lying."

She seems oddly calm and Rachel's head snaps up. Quinn just looks exhausted, slumped against her desk, still topless. And it hits her. That smell. The sweat. Quinn's pheromones.

Rachel clenches her fists in her lap and shakes her head, "Quinn. Something's wrong and I know it."

But Quinn doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn't want to admit something so unbelievably shameful to her mate. She just wants to add that little slip of paper in her back pocket to the shoe box under her bed and go straight to sleep.

But Rachel needs to talk. Quinn needs to elevate her fears. She watches as Rachel struggles for breath and she knows instantly what's wrong. Without even moving her head, she can smell herself, which means that Rachel can. Rachel can smell the natural pheromones. She can smell the scent that drives her insane with want.

"How can I make you feel better about it?" Quinn asks, huskily, softly.

Rachel's eyes snap up to land on hazel, watching intently as they flicker from hazel to gold and back again, "Please…" She begs, but Quinn's already pushing her down onto the bed.

It's not the way to deal with things.

But as Rachel digs her nails into her back, she feels revitalized. And when she hears her moan into her ear, softly begging for more, she can't stop herself. Rachel is soaked, hips moving in tandem with each and every one of Quinn's strong strokes. She whines and moans and tells Quinn that she loves her.

And when she brings her girlfriend over the edge, pussy tensing in a vice like grip around two fingers and those nails digging harder into her back, she knows it definitely isn't the way to deal with things.

But she can't bring herself to care.

It's disgusting. It's horrifying. It's disturbing. It's upsetting. It's soul crippling. It makes her feel as if her pride no longer exists. It makes her feel as if she's as worthless as a speck of dirt. It makes her feel as if kissing Jacob Ben Israel would be a better compromise. It angers her because she hates what she's doing. It pisses her right off because she knows she shouldn't be here.

She knows she shouldn't be here, conversing with these moronic idiots that can't even _hold _a proper conversation. She knows she should be at home or with Rachel. She knows she should be looking at that NYU booklet and filling out her application. She knows she should be worrying about Regional's which is only two days away. She knows she should be worrying about the music and the lyrics and the dance moves.

But instead, she's stood here, fake smile plastered on her face as the next customer comes up to the till.

"Welcome to McDonalds. What can I get you today?"

Quinn is dead on her feet. Rachel doesn't have the duet for Regional's this year, that privilege went to Santana and Puck. Their voices meld well together and as Rachel watches them on the sidelines, she can't help but feel a sense of pride. Everyone had come to far since Sophomore year and honestly, Rachel didn't mind giving up one half of a solo that she most definitely could have had.

The whole Club had been working themselves to the bone for this year. Their final year. This was the last time they'd go to Sectionals and Regional's and Nationals. They had to give it their all and go out with an almighty bang.

They finally had to show Vocal Adrenaline that fake plastic smiles and over the top dance routines doesn't guarantee a win. It's all about heart.

So as their cue comes up to go on for the group number, Rachel looks to Quinn who is no longer beside her, but slumped on the floor, chin to her chest. Sleeping.

"No. No. Not now, Quinn Fabray, you wake the hell up!"

Quinn wakes up when they announce the winner of the 2012 Regional's Competition.

New Directions win, even though they're missing a member. And as she stands up, watching them from the sidelines as they grab their trophy and hold it above their heads, she can't help but feel distraught.

She missed Regional's.

She missed _winning _Regional's.

As the New Directions leave the stage, they smile at her softly, but she can't mistake the look in their eyes. 'Sorry we couldn't wake you up.' 'Sorry you're so lazy.' 'We won, anyways.'

"Rachel."

They're sat side by side on the bus back home and Rachel hasn't even looked in her directions or spoken to her. It would usually have her worried beyond belief, but the fact that her mate can't even look at her, just makes her feel as if she's being ripped to shreds.

She's been laying herself bare, working straight after school into the late nights just to make ends meet. She's been putting her pride on the line, the only thing keeping it intact being those pay checks she gets. Thank God for weekly pay.

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

But Rachel just continues to stare out of the window and she can't help but feel invisible.

She pulls out her pay checks from underneath her bed that night. She sits down, box open beside her and one by one, she pulls those flimsy pieces of paper out. She settles them down gently in front of her, side by side, in one neat row and she calculates each and every one of them together on her phone.

Counting overtime, which she did every night, the total was $512.

She stares at the pay checks, phone slipping from her hand and she just sobs.

Working one job just isn't enough for her. The pay checks, while good for someone her age, isn't necessarily enough for her to get into college. She rings NYU to ask about financial aid and they tell her that they can give her a couple thousand dollars, but only if she lives on campus. Which is a no-no.

"Fuck." She throws her iPhone onto the bed and huffs when it almost goes through the newspaper laid open upon it. She'd been looking at getting a second job, seen as though one wasn't giving her enough. So far, nothing had come up that offered the right amount of money and or hours that worked around the ones at McDonalds as well as school.

But then again, if she got a second job, wouldn't it just put more stress on her relationship with Rachel? They hardly see each other as it is, thanks to Quinn's one job and when she's free from work she's either sleeping or hunting. What would a second job do to them both?

With a sigh, she picks up the paper and begins to sift through the last remaining job ads before sleep. She'd just gotten back from work and she was exhausted; all she wanted to do was shower that nasty ass grease off her body and collapse into her warm comfortable bed. Of course, she'd prefer it if her mate was there for her to hold, but she couldn't have everything.

It's only when she gets to the second to last job ad do her eyes stop. She reads and re-reads then re-reads again. It sounds simple enough. And the money, Jesus Christ.

But the name. Oh God, why did it have to be that name?

"I find this both hilarious and…oh who am I kidding? It's just hilarious that you would come to me for a job."

Quinn fights back the urge to rolls her eyes and settles herself into the couch. It's comfortable as hell, but the tension in the air just sets her right on edge. She wants to leave, desperately. Why had she bothered to come? She knew she'd have been ridiculed. But why did the pay have to be mouth wateringly brilliant.

"Then again, I suppose that's what you get."

She had to do this. She had to suffer this ridicule and keep her pride intact with those pay checks. Those pay checks that solidified her future in New York. With Rachel. She needed to do this. And no matter what she had to go through, she would do it.

"I need this job."

"Even though it pains me to say yes, I honestly find the thought of you scrubbing all those trophies you helped the Cheerio's win to be delicious." A pause, "You have a deal, Q."

Why oh why did it have to be Sue Sylvester?

Quinn doesn't drive her to school anymore, while not a bother, because she has her own car, she feels as if the blonde is pulling away. It's not suppose to be like that, right? Of course, she's talked to Cybil Noble about Quinn distancing of herself and being overly tired, but even the old woman that's almost like an encyclopedia of knowledge had no light to shed on the problem.

She just assumed Quinn was overworking herself with training and left it at that. But it was interesting enough when Rachel had showed the old woman her mark. Cybil had been so overjoyed she'd have jumped around the room if she could. She asked every question under the sun; when did it happen, how did it happen, do you still feel independent although you're marked to Quinn? Some information she wasn't willing to divulge, naturally, because the woman has already seen her come on her couch, but she doesn't really want to tell her how she all but begged the blonde to fuck her until she passed out.

But still, she wasn't any closer to finding out why Quinn was pulling away. Apparently a wolf was suppose to be almost unbearably close to their mate a few months after the fact. Mostly just to solidify the pact they both made, but also for protection. But Quinn hadn't been doing that. Were Alpha's different in that respect?

She only sees Quinn from time to time at school, and of course, they sit side by side in Glee Club. The whole of New Directions had gotten over the fact that she'd practically slept through the whole competition, and so had Rachel. Yeah, she was beyond miffed, who wouldn't be when your girlfriend falls asleep during a competition that means the world to you? But she got over it, just like the rest of the club, because they know that Quinn is exhausted, they just don't know why.

"Hey." Quinn greets as she sits down beside Rachel, planting a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Hey back," And she takes Quinn's hand, just so she knows that Quinn is really there. It's a comfort thing that she's just not willing to stop right now. With Quinn or her wolf hardly ever being there, she always feels the need to be touchy feely when she finally is there. But it doesn't seem to bother Quinn. "Your hands are rough."

And they are. The top of her palm, just where it meets her fingers is rough to the touch. Almost calloused.

"It's what you get when you run on your hands, babe." Quinn chuckles softly, trying to throw a joke into the mix. But Rachel isn't buying it. She's seen Quinn's hands after she's gone for a run, or to hunt and they look or feel nothing like they do now. They're softer, somehow, when she's been hunting.

So even though Quinn laughs and jokes with her about it, she can't wipe the scowl off of her face.

Something is wrong.

_I kno sumthin u don't kno._

Rachel stares at the texts and tries to pinpoint the number. She doesn't have it stored in her phone and the lack of spelling and grammar pisses her right off. Would it kill people to not use text speak and to use proper English whilst texting? Would it honestly hurt to text a few extra letters?

_You may know something I don't know, but I know how to type in better English than you. So I guess we're even._

Being with Quinn really proved how sarcastic she was.

_I guess I wont tell u wat quinn has been getting up 2 thn._

And she blanches, the next sarcastic remote dying on the tip of her tongue. What Quinn has been getting up to? No. No she wouldn't let her mind drift to that. Quinn wouldn't cheat, not on her mate; it wasn't in her nature. So she does the only thing she can do.

_If it was serious, Quinn would have told me what was wrong. I trust her._

_So she dint tell u tht shes working 2 jobs 2 make ends meet?_

What…?

_You have no proof._

_3 football players n coach Sylvester are proof enuf._

"Finn, you partake in McDonalds, correct?"

He stares at his ex-girlfriend as she storms up to him at his locker. Quinn is nowhere to be found, which is oddly terrifying, because the blonde is always latched to Rachel's side. He glances around, hoping that she isn't hiding somewhere to attack him. They haven't been on good terms since Rachel begun dating Quinn and he doesn't really want to get on her bad side.

Scary Quinn.

"Uh. Sometimes, yeah."

"Perhaps we could go together after school?"

"Uh…" He leans down, a lot, to reach her eyelevel, "Is this like, a date or something? Cos I don't really wanna have Quinn busting my ass for taking you out."

Rachel's jaw drops, "Finn Hudson! I wouldn't cheat on my girlfriend and the fact that you're insinuating such a thing makes me wonder how much you truly know me!" Then she huffs and plants her hands on her hips, "Would you like to go to McDonalds after school or not?"

"I don't have any money…I used all of it on new games and beer."

"Fine. If I pay for your murderous meal will you go with me?"

"You mean, you'll buy me a Big Mac and not glare at me while I eat it?"

Rachel sighs, "Yes, Finn."

"Awesome!"

"Remind me why you're wearing a wig again?"

They're sat at McDonalds, right at the back, the furthest away from the counter that they can get. Finn's already put his order in with a rather stumpy looking teenage boy behind the counter and was just waiting for it to be served. Rachel, however, was sat incognito against the windowed wall, sunglasses on and a maroon wig over her brown locks.

She felt like a damn spy.

"Just so no one recognizes me, Finn."

"What, like the Vegan Nazi's? Will they attack you if they see you in a burger joint?"

The fact that he sounds so utterly serious, renders her speechless. Eventually she manages to get her words back.

"You said two offensive things right then."

"Oh! Crap, sorry, I forgot you were Jewish."

"Oh, Finn…" She rolls her eyes and props her chin up with the palm of her hand, "Nevermind." Eventually, his meal gets called and he dives into it with gusto. She's disgusted beyond believe, watching him dunk his monstrosity of a burger into a pool of tomato ketchup. She honestly can't see why anyone would want to put that crap in their mouths. And McDonalds especially. It's full of fat and processed meat and…

She shudders as she watches him take a large bite and stuff a couple fries in his mouth. So she does the only thing that'll keep her from bolting out the restaurant, she looked away and stared at the counter.

Nothing. Only the same guy that took Finn's order and some other guy with a headset on.

"Why are we here again…?"

"I just need to know if someone I know works here."

"Like who?" He asks, mumbling around mashed up potatoes and beef.

"Just someone."

Finn has finished his meal and two McFlurry's, all that's she's paid for when she decides to give up. The texts were a hoax. Quinn most definitely did not work at McDonalds. She'd spent two hours (two hours that she'd never get back) sat in a disgusting greasy restaurant just to watch her ex-boyfriend demolish a large meal and two ice creams.

"Can we go now? I kinda need to nap all of this off."

With a sigh, she stands, and it's only when she makes sure to pick up the tray Finn left on their table, because she doesn't like leaving a mess behind, even if the restaurant chain are mass murderers of cows, does she see a flash of blonde hair behind the counter.

And there, stood behind the till, serving a rather obese looking woman and her kids, is Quinn Fabray. Her Quinn Fabray.

She leaves before she's seen.

_Why is she working at McDonalds?_

_Told u. 2 get money. Duh._

_But why? What does she need the money for?_

_Why the hell shud I kno? Ask her urself._

She doesn't ask Quinn.

Quinn looks positively ragged when she walks into the after school Glee meeting that very next day. She slumps into the empty seat beside Rachel and doesn't even offer a greeting or a kiss. There's nothing. She's just sat there, slumped, chin to chest.

"Quinn…?"

"Hm?" The blonde mumbles, not really opening her mouth.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

And her girlfriend looks at her, and only then does she notice those heavy bags under her eyes, and those beautiful hazel eyes that she fell in love with. Those hazel eyes that no longer held the shine they used to and she just _hurts._

"Of course."

But it hurts more to be lied to.

It's like entering the lion's den. For some reason she feels as if she's sealing her fate and almost giving herself to a hungry lion. A hungry lion that prowls the corridors and takes up home in a small office close to the gymnasium. A hungry lion that loves to wear tracksuits, every damn day of the week.

"Coach Sylvester?"

She waits outside the house, at the exact time, at the exact spot, just like she was told. She'll be ten minutes late for school, but she can hardly bring herself to care. She's already been sat in her car for 30 minutes outside a seemingly boring building, and almost knowing that Quinn was inside, was enough for her to forget about the fact her attendance record will be ruined.

But it's nearing 8:30 and Quinn still hasn't left the house. But Coach Sylvester does, holding a blended protein shake and twirling one of her whistles in her free hand. She looks entirely all too smug, so much so that it pisses her off. How can she be so smug while Quinn Fabray cleans her apartment from top to bottom on the edge of exhaustion?

"_Coach Sylvester?"_

"_Berry. Why are you in my office?"_

"_I was wondering if I could talk to you for just a few minutes."_

"_You just spoke to me, now leave."_

"_Please. It's about Quinn."_

"_And why should my suddenly lesbian ex-cheerio be any of your concern or mine for that matter?"_

"_Well, as you've probably heard, she and I are dating. But recently, she's been incredibly withdrawn and tired. I heard on the grapevine that she may be working for you."_

"_Hm." _

"_I was just wondering if it was true?"_

"_My previous Mexican maid left after her visa expired, so naturally I was looking for a new maid. Quinn was the first one to come to me. She seemed less than impressed."_

"_So why did she take it?"_

"_She told me she needed the money." Coach Sue Sylvester pushes her glasses back up her nose and peers down at her journal once more, "Now please leave. I don't want to catch Jewish Smurf Syndrome."_

Quinn follows Coach out of the house only five minutes later and even locks the door behind her. She looks dead on her feet and she almost seems to drag herself over to her car.

And something inside Rachel breaks, because Quinn is working herself to death for money.

But for what?

"Hobbit."

Rachel sighs heavily and replaces her Math book in her locker for her English Lit, "Santana."

"Find out what was wrong with Q, then?" She's leaning against the opposite beside Rachel's, looking calm, but with a hint of smugness. Rachel wishes she had the strength or the power to just smack Santana in the jaw but…wait, what?

"How do you know that?"

"I might not want to text in proper English, Berry, but I'm smart enough to know what goes on at this school. With everyone."

Not everything. She doesn't know Quinn's a werewolf. Thank God.

"You were the one texting me…" Rachel slams her locker shut and leans against it, "Why is she working so hard though? I don't understand why she needs the money."

"You're going to Julliard, right?"

She suddenly feels the need to be overbearingly smug, but she reigns it back, "Yes, of course. Why?"

"And Q's going to NYU?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Well yes, of course. We've already planned to go to both colleges."

"Does she have the money to go, though?"

"Well of-," And pauses and her mind fleets back to that one text she received all those months ago. $15,000 dollars was suddenly donated to Michael Hunter to pay off the medical bills that he couldn't. $15,000 that Quinn had told her was from her college fund. "Oh my God."

And Santana just walks away.

Quinn pulls her into the empty choir room just before lunch and pins her against the whiteboard. Before she even has the chance to ask what's wrong, Quinn's lips are against hers, kissing and sucking and licking and biting and holy mother fucking God it feels so good.

It's been so long since Quinn just made out with her for the hell of it, or wanted to be close to her. So she revels in it. She wraps her arms tightly around Quinn's neck and pulls her in, holding her lips at bay, flicking her tongue back against her girlfriend's.

Quinn's body feels as if it's on fire and the warmth she exudes just makes Rachel want to melt into her touch. She can smell, almost taste the pheromones that Quinn naturally gives off when they're together, and she so desperately wants to get swept up into the haze of sex and lust and pure need.

But she can't.

She digs her nails into the back of Quinn's neck, feeling her tense and moan against swollen lips. She didn't want that effect, no, she didn't need that effect to happen, not with those pheromones that wreck havoc on her senses.

"Quinn," She rips her lips away, panting for breath as Quinn attacks her neck and shoulder blade. She brushes over her mark tenderly with the brush of her lips before she feels the hot white pressure of teeth biting back down again. It's painful, but so damn pleasurable and she feels as if she's on the precipice of coming. She's being fucked by Quinn's mouth and her pheromones. It's a delicious agony. "Quinn stop!"

And instantly, the blonde stiffens and pulls back, eyes wide and gold, lips parted for air.

"What? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No…no baby, you didn't." She cups Quinn's face in her shaking hands, trying to fight off the urge to come as she leans in and kisses her softly, "I just…we need to talk, okay?"

"About…?" Quinn asks, genuinely confused, chest still panting with unhinged arousal.

"About the fact you can't afford college."


	9. Daybreak

**I truly apologize for the lack of updating on this story. I recently started a new job and the early hours of waking up at 4:30 in the morning every day has slowly gotten to me. Now I'm in the swing of things and updates will go back to one every day. I thank you all for your patience and do enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

The silence is almost deafening. How can two people go from kissing; feeling that ultimate urge that ripples between them, to being coldly silent with one another? Rachel's mind spins with questions that beg to be asked, while Quinn is oddly quiet; sedate, calm, unthinking.

And then everything blows up.

It was only a matter of time until Rachel found out. Who had told her? Mike? No. He'd never betray her trust. But if he had…? _No_. Had she been that obvious? Well, of course, the exhaustion could be seen from across a crowded room; how could Rachel, her mate, the only one who knows her inside and out, not notice?

Rachel Berry always knew what was going on and if it was to do with Quinn, she always seemed to just _know_. How could she keep something from her? They were mated, bonded; they had that invisible tether that only they could feel and see. Keeping something from Rachel Berry was practically impossible; she always found out sooner or later.

"What are you talking about?" She asks, simply because it's a safe reply. She's not angry, but she's not happy either. She can't get angry; her _wolf _can't get angry. Although her control is better, she's not strong enough to pull back a wolf with a wounded pride.

"Don't lie to me. Why don't we save ourselves the hassle and just be truthful?"

Quinn's eyes narrow, almost as a reflex, before she has the chance to stop them. She so wants to talk this out, calmly and without confrontation, but her wolf, it growls dangerously. A warning.

"It'd help if I knew what you were talking about."

Her wolf begins to assert itself over her psyche. Her human side wishes to talk it through, but that's all it is; a wish, a futile pointless wish that won't come true no matter how hard she tries. Her human side, her logical side, is slowly evaporating. Like water into gas. It's going, it's just a matter of time until it all disappears into nothingness.

"Quinn," Rachel sighs, almost tiredly, her hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. She's as calm as can be, although hurt, deep down inside, locked and sealed away. She's hurt from the lying, the espionage, but especially with the fact that she had been sat there, day in, day out, talking about college and _their _apartment. She knew she had the money for college, having two well off parents helped, and a scholarship on top of that gave her a free ride. She didn't take the time to sit and wonder if Quinn had the money. Even if she hadn't given the money towards Michael Hunter's medical bills, she only had $17,000 right? That wasn't even enough for a year… "Explain to me how you were planning on going to New York with only the money for one _term_?"

"I…" Her voice cracks. It actually _cracks_. What would she say? She could say her girlfriend, her mate, is delusional, but what would that solve? Rachel knew how much money she had; It'd come from her own mouth, she couldn't exactly turn around and out rightly _deny _what she'd said all along. How would that make her feel? One of the main things that built the very foundation their trust was built on, was just a lie? So she takes the time to clear her throat and says, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Her wolf howls at the protection of it's pride, but winces soon after; the realization that yet again, its mate is being lied to. To protect itself it lies, but hurts its very own mate in retaliation. A vicious circle. It's not suppose to happen. She's meant to protect, not hurt.

Rachel feels the lie. It seems to seep into her skin, it sticks, just like a bad smell. It hurts, it hurts too much; she really gave herself to a compulsive liar? A woman and a wolf. Two different beings that she _thought_ she knew.

"You do." She pauses, but only for a few seconds, just enough time for the two simple words to sink in. "You do know what I'm talking about. You told me yourself that you gave $15,000 to Michael and that you had $2000 left over." Just talking about Michael still makes her sick to her stomach. "That means you only had $17,000. That won't even pay for one _year_ at NYU. What were you expecting to do?"

She didn't mean for her words to become heated, but the sheer thought of Quinn trying to get to NYU with only $17,000 and then renting an apartment too, just completely dumbfounds her. It's utter madness.

"I mean, I thought the $17,000 was for rent and books and supplies but…_that_ was all the money you had to go to New York with?"

"I wasn't planning to go to New York before you found out I was a wolf, Rachel." She sounds so utterly tired, and all she can do is rub her eyes, fighting off the sting; the pain of exhaustion. "My parents didn't save as much because they thought I'd get a scholarship and with that, I was only planning to go to OSU."

Rachel shakes her head softly, in disbelief, "Then why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me you didn't have enough money for NYU or New York for that matter?"

"_I__'__ll find a way to New York.__"_

"Oh, Quinn…" She whimpers, because the hurt cuts her deep. From the very beginning she knew. She'd known but she'd refused to see the bigger picture. Quinn knew she didn't have the right amount as soon as they got closer. She just refused to acknowledge it; she just kept pushing the thought away until it became an insignificant memory. And it worked.

"You shouldn't worry," Quinn fleetingly says with the flick of her left hand, "I'm working for the money. I'll have it."

But there's something in Quinn's eyes that tell Rachel different. It might be the exhaustion that clouds those usually bright hazel eyes, but for the first time in years, Quinn Richards is no longer an enigma because Rachel Berry can see straight through her.

"No you won't. Do you really think working for both Santana and _McDonald__'__s _is going to get you to New York?"

Quinn hesitates and shifts from foot to foot, brow knitted in what seems to be contemplation. But it's only seconds before Quinn gives her reply. A resounding, "Yes." Filled with fake assurance.

"You'll die of exhaustion before you even get to New York." And she will, because it's just shy of a month and Quinn already looks dead on her feet. And Rachel knows that Quinn needs more rest and more downtime than anyone else, simply because her wolf saps that much energy just being contained inside.

"_An Alpha usually eats twice as much than a normal wolf, it__'__s common practice.__"_

"Are you even eating normally? You know you need to eat." Rachel steps forward, slowly, hesitantly, "You're killing yourself to reach an unreachable goal, Quinn." She's only inches away, fingertips almost touching a pale white forearm, "Let me help you."

Wrong move.

Quinn's body freezes instantly and within the blink of an eye she's closing off, backing away, defences rising and gloves officially coming off.

And Rachel doesn't know _why_.

"I don't _need_ your help, Rachel. I can do this on my own. I can get the money on my own. I can deal with this on my own."

But she can't. She really can't. She's so utterly exhausted, her nerves are frayed and all she wants to do is curl up in a ball and just _weep_. But that's her human side. Her wolf side just drives her to keep going; to keep working and never stop until she has what she needs. It's a 50/50 struggle; a battle with no end in sight. Her wolf refuses to see or feel the exhaustion that's engulfing its human form, because it's not natural; it's not an Alpha's way.

"All you do is lie to me…" Rachel whispers, voice shaking with barely contained emotion, "Is this what I have to endure to be with you, Quinn? Because all you're doing is pushing me away. Push me too far and I won't come back."

It's an empty threat, but a threat nonetheless. The Alpha feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge and almost as if she can see into her own mind, her wolf stands there, body primed, every muscle tense, teeth bared. It doesn't want to attack. No, far from it. It's just filled with an uncontrollable heated rage at the thought of Rachel walking away.

But she won't. They're mates. They're bonded.

"You won't walk away. I marked you, remember?" She doesn't mean to sound smug, but the tone seeps through with every passing word.

"You may have marked me, but I still have my own free will." She'll still have the mark, that permanent mark that'll mar her skin for the rest of her life. And her next partner will look at it when they first make love and ask why she has it. She'll make up some elaborate lie and when they finally do make love to her, that urge to feel Quinn above her, will become too much to bare. She'll fake it, or come from imagining her former mate. She'll plaster on a smile when she gets married, wishing it was Quinn's finger she was sliding that ring onto. She'll have children and always wonder if they'd have had hazel or brown eyes. She'll grow old and she'll die, still reliving that feeling of teeth digging into her skin, marking her, loving her.

And she'd do it.

"I deserve better than the lies. I may not be as strong as you but I'm still a part of this relationship. I still deserved to be treated as an equal. I may _only_ be a human, Quinn, but so are _you_."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, you may be an Alpha, but you're still a woman. You're still human. You need to turn to people for help, it's what we do."

"It's not what I do." Quinn replies bluntly. It's the truth. Alpha's never ask for help, they always deal with their own problems, on their _own_. An Alpha, although the leader of it's pack, is naturally a loner. A lone wolf. How apt a saying. Asking or requesting for help is the ultimate disgrace, aside from losing in a fight. She should be strong enough to deal with her own problems and protect her pack. If she asked for help, what kind of leader would that make her? A weak one. "It's a sign of weakness."

Rachel stares, eyes wide, mouth agape. Her hair shines under the bright harshness of the choir room lights, her entirely too tight jeans and shirt fit her body to a tee; melted to every curve and screamed perfection. Quinn, on the other hand, wore ratty jeans and a hoodie. Her hair no longer shone but fell limply against her face. Her usually pale skin felt chalky and pasty against her. She was an unknown. Even to herself.

But then Rachel laughs, and both Quinn and her wolf see red.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Then the laughter stops and Rachel sobers instantly. Quinn just waits, silently. "If you honestly think that asking people for help is a bad thing you truly need to re-evaluate. It's a fact of life. Even the strongest of people need others to rely on, and that includes you. Asking for help isn't a sign of weakness, it's a sign of strength. Your parents could help you with funds, it's not like they're broke. Is your pride the only reason you won't ask?."

Silence envelops the two teenage girls. Quinn looks to the floor, unable to look in those beautiful brown eyes that shine with a pride and strength that far amasses her own. And Rachel, Rachel just watches, eyes wounded and shining with unshed tears.

"Tell me…" She whispers, barely controlling the trembling of her lower lip, "Is that the only reason you won't ask?"

And Quinn can only whisper back, "Yes."

"Quinn," Rachel sighs, partly in annoyance and partly with relief that there could be a quick fix on the horizon, "Your parents and I won't think any differently of you if you ask for money; everyone needs help at this point in their life. You can't take on the burden of your own misfortune. We all want to help you."

And Quinn can only swallow back the sudden blockage in her throat. She wants to cry. She needs to cry. She wants to collapse under the weight, the burden, she carries on her shoulders, but she won't, she can't; it's not her way.

"It's different for you, Rachel. You're not a wolf. You're not an Alpha."

Then Rachel's eyes narrow and her hand all but grabs Quinn's chin, pulling her face up so their eyes lock. Then, in that movement, the air shifts. The school seems oddly silent. Another deafening silence.

"Then make me a wolf so I _can_ understand."

* * *

"So that's the problem?"

"Yeah."

"And what are your thoughts?"

"I don't…really have any."

"It's a huge decision; filled with dangers."

"I know that."

"Then you must be aware that as your mate, it's up to her."

"…This could have been avoided. If she hadn't seen through me, we could have avoided this whole issue."

"Seen through you?"

"It's nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Yeah, that's my downfall, I suppose."

"Would you allow her to become a werewolf?"

"I'm conflicted."

"You want her to be a wolf so your bond is strengthened but then again, you don't, simply because it could kill her."

"…Yeah."

"It's a tough decision. One you must make together."

"Rachel isn't willing to think it through. She isn't willing to see the fact that it could kill her."

"Because the urge to feel what you feel clouds her judgement?"

"Bingo."

"Do you want to know why I chose not to become a werewolf?"

"The threat of death, wasn't it?"

"No, Quinn. I chose to stay human, not because of the threat of my death, but simply because I was afraid I'd lose myself. I was born human, wholly to be human. Werewolves are born werewolves, to be both human and wolf. I was scared I would lose who I was suppose to be. I wasn't willing to become something I wasn't meant to be."

"You chose not to become a wolf, not because your body may not have been able to take it, but because you knew it's who you weren't meant to be?"

"Exactly."

"But how do I make Rachel see that?"

"As her mate, you have to stand by her decision. This is her choice and her choice alone."

"I refuse to let her make a decision she refuses to think through."

"Then you have to stand by her through her downfall, if that so happens."

"Cybil…"

"Any wolf would do the same thing. You're not different."

"All for money…"

"Money?"

"Never mind. It's nothing."

* * *

For a werewolf to make a human into one of their own is a simple but traumatic procedure. The change can only be made between two bonded people; a werewolf and human. The bite, the mark that is inflicted when a human is made a mate, that's all it is, a mark. But after a wolf has bonded with its mate, the bite, the next bites, until the change is made, has the opportunity to change them. There's no venom or freaky saliva magic, it's just a simple bite. But this bite has to be deeper; so deep it pierces all layers of skin and muscle. And it must be made over the original mark.

It's so simple but devastating.

A werewolves body, from birth, is infinitely stronger than any human. Their bodies are bread to withstand serious trauma; something that would kill a human, would only wound a wolf. When a human is born, their bodies remain innocent, tender. If their weak bodies were to suddenly undergo the physical and mental stresses that a wolf could easily contend with, it could easily destroy and rip apart a human from the inside. Rarely do humans survive the transformation, and to give a statistic, it would be 15% of cases that survive.

15%. Even 99% wouldn't be enough to sate Quinn's chaotic mind.

She disappears off the radar.

Well, to Rachel that is. She only tells her parents where she's going and asks them to call school and say she's sick and might be off a few days until she's better. She quits both her job at McDonald's and Santana's home because after crunching the numbers once more, she knows she isn't going to be able to get the money in time for the enrollment deadline. It pains her to give up her last shot at going to New York with Rachel. Her last shot at a future that means something.

So she gets in her car and drives. She passes the 'You're now leaving Lima' sign, but barely registers it. It's only when she's on the highway, only the sound of rushing wind beating against her car, does everything finally register.

She breaks down.

And her wolf howls with pain.

* * *

Even though she's been told she's part of the family by the head of the household, she still can't believe she's not privy to information such as her girlfriend's whereabouts. It's been a day, a full day since she all but ordered Quinn to turn her and made the girl storm out of the room with hardened eyes, awash with tears barely held at bay.

At first she assumed Quinn wasn't at school that morning because of her job at Santana's, but one small conversation only twenty minutes later with the girl settled _that _argument. Quinn quit her job without even a reason. And it had Rachel worried. When she wasn't around Quinn, she never knew what could be rushing through her mind. And although an enigma 90% of the time, Rachel couldn't make any sense of Quinn or her thought process' if she wasn't able to see into those hazel eyes that were almost like a window into the soul.

So by lunchtime, when she had seen hide nor hair of her girlfriend, she decided to make a trip to the Fabray household. Although she hated ditching school, if only lunch, the pull she had to see her mate was almost unbearable. None of the Glee Club had seen or heard from the allusive blonde, after all, Rachel is meticulous by nature and she had to make sure it wasn't just Quinn avoiding _her_.

Finn had heard nothing; in fact, he had the cheek to ask for another overly expensive trip to McDonalds. Brittany just shrugged her shoulders, almost a little sadly before being dragged away by a miffed looking Santana who quoted "not to give a shit." Puck just scratched his head and shrugged. But Tina and Mike, they knew something.

"I swung around to hers last night. She has my Kinect…"

"Okay, I don't know what once of those is, but go on."

"Well, her mom told me she had the flu."

"She didn't look too good yesterday," Tina butts in softly, "She looked really pale in Gym. I asked her if she wanted to go to the nurse, but she said she was fine."

So her girlfriend, who appeared to be healthy, albeit exhausted, suddenly came down with the flu within only a few hours that left her bed ridden and unable to pick up a phone? The whole thing seemed shifty and completely unbelievable.

So when Russell Fabray answers the door on one of his rare days off, does he frown when his daughter's mate all but demands to see Quinn.

"Rachel, I know you're my daughter's mate…and I'd rather not think about _that.__"_He grumbles, because even though it was bound to happen, he doesn't really like to think about his baby girl having _sex_. "But sometimes Quinn needs time on her own to think."

"Think about what? I've done nothing wrong, Russell."

"You know what you did, Rachel." He doesn't sound like he wants to tell her off, but the tone in his voice makes it sound like an accusation. "You asked her to turn you, without even thinking about how it would make her feel."

"But that's the reason I asked! I want to know how she's feeling or what she's thinking because she said I don't understand simply because I'm not a wolf. Is that so wrong? To become a wolf so things become easier for her? For us?"

Russell shakes his head softly, pushing back a blonde tendril that falls across his forehead.

"You didn't ask. You _demanded. _That's two very different things. You demanded she change you. Do you really know the repercussions of such a drastic change? Have you put any thought into what your friends and family would think? How it would change your future? Or not allow you to have a future at all?"

Rachel blanches, her automatic and well thought out comeback just dying on her tongue. This conversation took a turn that she wasn't anticipating. She knew full well that a werewolf could turn a human; she'd heard that from Cybil Noble. But this? No. Cybil had left out that little titbit of information. No future? What the hell was that suppose to mean?

"What are you talking about?"

Russell just sighs.

* * *

Hands resting behind her head, she stares up at the bland white ceiling. Her mind is reeling; whenever she pins one thought down,, more come to attack her. It drives her into a quiet insanity, one that she cannot escape. Thoughts of money, thoughts of Rachel, thoughts of New York, thoughts of her parents, thoughts of taking that one, deep bite over Rachel's mark to turn her. Thoughts of standing by her mate while she feels those first foreign rumblings in her stomach. Thoughts of watching as she transforms into a glorious brown wolf, smart, cunningly smart and strong. Thoughts of brown against gold, hunting as one. Being one with one another. But then it all comes right back down to money.

But then again, does she think that a 15% chance is enough to turn her mate? Utter excitement and happiness when the bite is first taken, but then Rachel collapses, gasping for air, begging, screaming for help. Body tears apart from the inside out, muscles quake and quiver, stomach turns violently, blood seeps and pools crimson on a stark floor, forever staining, forever imprinted. Heart slows, lungs cease, body crippled, can't scream any longer. The life from those brown eyes dying out. A wasted talent. A wasted love. A wasted woman.

No. That thought is too much to bare. No sane person would land their own future on a 15% chance of success. No. There's no way in hell.

Even being away from Lima isn't enough to escape the problems that she faces. Even tucked away in Boston, on her sister's living room couch. All she wants is to get away, and she thought time with her fun loving sister would do that, but no. Nothing works. No matter how hard she tries.

"What do you mean I may not have a future if Quinn turns me?" Rachel asks, simply glancing down at the glass of water Nicholas settles down on his desk before her. Judy is downstairs, on the phone, while she and Quinn's father talk in his study.

Russell sighs and slowly descends into his chair, hands gripping the armrests in quiet desperation.

Although Rachel wasn't of his own blood, since Quinn's marking of her, she might as well be. There's a hidden bond there; surrogate father to a girl that belongs to his family, his pack, who he cares for and adores. He's not vocal about the depth of his care, simply because it's not his way; his father wasn't like that, nor was his grandfather. They're silent, but that doesn't mean they don't care. Rachel, by extension, is his third daughter. And he praises Quinn for her fine taste, because it's an honor to see Rachel as part of his clan. Werewolf or not.

"Before we start, do you know anything about a werewolf transforming a human? Has Quinn told you anything?"

Quinn's mentioned nothing. She's never really spoken about changing Rachel. It was an unspoken subject between them. Of course, she knew Quinn had the power to turn her, but she truly had no idea how difficult the prospect may be. How could it be so difficult? Of course it may hurt; Quinn had told her many a time that transforming hurt and that it had taken her years for her body and mind to become accustomed to it.

"She told me nothing." Then Rachel rolls her eyes, "Which isn't a surprise. She doesn't tell me much these days."

"That's understandable. I live with her and I probably see her a collective of thirty minutes a day…" He falls silent, brow knitted, "I can't even hear her thoughts anymore. She's been closed off for weeks."

"I know why…"

"Have you two been arguing over the transformation? Rachel, it's not a decision to take lightly. It could _kill _you."

Eyes shut and a collective breath echoes around the room. Russell leans back in his seat, forehead dropped into the palm of his hand, mind racing.

* * *

She feels like she isn't breathing, but she is, in and out, the fresh air fills her lungs and leaves with no problem. But her body, it's buzzing with disgust, for herself; no wonder Quinn had run out of the classroom, no wonder she had such a panic ridden expression as she begged to be turned. She should have known, deep down inside she should have known that being turned wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows. She should have known that Russell never takes anyone into his study unless it was serious. But then again, why should she have known? It's not as if she was brought up to know about werewolves; she didn't learn about them in middle school, or high school for that matter. How could she have known that being turned could end her life?

"How could I have known?" Rachel asks quietly, eyes snapping open to land on the man opposite. It shocks her to see how much he looks like his daughter in that moment; exhausted, _broken. _"Russell, how could I have known?"

"I raised my daughter better than this," He sighs, dejected, "She had all this time to tell you. She had all this time to sit you down and tell you what could happen…"

* * *

_Russell Fabray was thirteen years old when he saw his first and last human to werewolf transformation. His uncle, Robert, turned his wife after a year of planning finally brought the day ahead. Russell hadn__'__t meant to drop by, in fact, he was suppose to be at school, but a job painting his uncle__'__s house took him there. He was an avid painter and decorator; a hobby that his uncle pushed him to pursue. He had gone to the house, but receiving no reply and seeing the SUV parked in the driveway, he wandered inside._

_Paint cans lined the walls and in his excitement, he began pursuing the different shades, wondering which color would go in which room. He__'__d managed to put his hand on the last pot of paint when the sounds of hushed conversation, first his uncle__'__s voice, then a soft feminine voice, his wife, Amy__'__s voice, littered downstairs._

"_We planned this, Rob. There__'__s no point stalling anymore.__"_

"_But…__"_

"_I know…but I want this. I want to be a part of you.__"_

_Russell followed the voices, his sneakers softly squeaking on the wooden floors before he slowly ascended the stairs._

_All the doors in the hallway were shut, ready to be painted, apart from the door right at the end, his uncle and aunt__'__s bedroom._

_The feeling of intruding washed through him, but the urge to know that belonged to anyone his age overpowered it. He followed the voices, quietly making his way to the cracked bedroom door. _

_Amy was sat on the edge of the bed, eyes following her husband__'__s meticulous pacing. She looked calm, Robert on the other hand, was pale and shaking._

"_Rob, you__'__re making this harder than it has to be. I _want _to do this.__"_

_Then the pacing stops and Robert faces his wife. Russell stares at his back as it flexes through the back of his crisp white dress shirt._

_He can__'__t hear what they say, voices too low for even Russell to hear. He strains to listen, but it doesn__'__t help. But then his uncle is moving, dropping to his knees before his wife. He takes her hands and softly kisses each individual knuckle and Amy just watches, softly smiling at the clear adoration her husband has for her._

"_Please change your mind…__"__ He pleads, lips still brushing the soft skin of her knuckles._

_But Amy just shakes her head with the same soft smile and pulls her hands away, unbuckling the silver watch that settles on her left wrist._

_Russell see__s__ his aunt__'__s mark; it__'__s small, small enough to be hidden by a watch, but it looks so much more deeper than the one his mother has. His father had told him it was a sign of control; if the bite barely breaks the skin, it proves how in control of your wolf you are. It appears his uncle wasn__'__t in control that much._

_Amy extends her arm to her husband, flexing her hand back to expose her wrist. They lock eyes, and with a small nod from Amy, and a bated breath from Russell, Robert grabs his wife__'__s forearm and sinks his teeth deep into her wrist, right over her mark._

_The scream sends Russell rocketing back onto his backside, knees bent, feet planted on the ground, arms extended behind him, eyes wide as he watches his uncle__'__s jaw clench down harder on his aunt__'__s wrist. But then he__'__s pulling back, licking the blood from his lips._

_Amy is quiet on the bed, but her body shakes slightly, the aftershocks of the pain dissipating from her body._

"_Are you okay?__"__ Robert asks, wiping the tears away from his wife's cheeks._

"_I…__"__ Amy clears her throat, __"__I think so.__"__ Robert blows out a lungful of air with relief. It__'__d worked. __"__When should I feel something?__"_

"_I have no idea…__"__ He frowns, climbing to his feet. __"__We__'__ll just monitor it carefully. We__'__ll have to be very careful.__"_

_Any nods slightly, __"__Okay.__"__ And she climbs to her feet, shakily, brow knitted, __"__Rob?__"_

"_What? What__'__s wrong?__"_

"_I…I don__'__t kn-,__"_

_And she__'__s screaming, collapsing to the bed as her body visibly fits. She screams for Robert as he jumps on the bed beside her, holding her close._

_She opens her mouth to ask if transforming is suppose to be this painful, but instead she coughs, spraying her husband__'__s stark white shirt with a sparkle of red._

"_No! This wasn__'__t suppose to happen to us!__"_

_Her blood._

_Robert cries, barely heard over the screams and violent thrashing of his wife__'__s body. Blood paints his shirt as he clutches her to his chest. She__'__s in a painful agony, there__'__s no end to it, and there__'__s nothing he can do._

_He did this. She demanded and begged to be changed and he couldn__'__t deny his mate. So all he can do is hold her, sobbing and begging for her to live as her body continues to thrash violently on the bed._

"_Uncle Robert!__"__ Russell screams, unable to keep quiet any longer, terrified._

_Robert__'__s eyes slam to the doorway, to where his nephew sits on the hallway floor, shaking. He see__s__ red instantly and through the tears, through the sounds of his wife__'__s ear piercing screams and the slowing beats of her heart, he screams, __"__Get the fuck out, Russ!"_

_His tone is terrifying and Russell doesn__'__t think twice. He clambers quickly to his feet and bolts._

_Robert wasn__'__t telling his nephew to leave simply because he wasn__'__t meant to be there, but because he wasn__'__t willing to let him see the death of his aunt. And as Russell bolts down the stairs and across the foyer, kicking over a paint can of pale pink, especially picked by both Amy and Robert for their unborn baby girl, he__'__s left with the agonizing scream of a woman that he adored and the heartbreaking howl of a man and wolf that was losing everything._

* * *

"I don't have the right to tell you what to do, that's yours and Quinn's issue."

Rachel sighs, standing from her chair and moving over to the window that overlooks the backyard. The water of the pool ripples gently with the quiet breeze that sifts the trees. How she wishes she could be outside, forgetting everything, all the problems. How she wishes she could see Quinn and just be held.

"Then give me your opinion." Rachel presses her palm against the glass, "You can give me that, right?"

"I'll be stepping on an Alpha's personal business. Unless you want me to be killed?"

Rachel's hand drops from the window, hanging limp at her side as her eyes continue to scan the pool. Ripple after ripple.

"You're her father."

Russell spins his chair to face her, arms crossed over his chest. "I may be her father, but that doesn't change the fact that she's the Alpha of this family. Her wolf will want to fight me for intruding in on its business, and both Quinn and I know she's much stronger than I."

"She'd kill her own father…"

"Wolves are territorial by nature, Alpha's more so. I'm not willing to battle my daughter just because I got involved with _her _affairs."

Rachel shakes her head in disbelief; she never knew that being an Alpha's mate would be so difficult. Of course she had researched, but research only goes so far. Living in the moment is what gives you the best research. But killing a member of your own family simply because they're offering to help or their opinion? It was disgusting.

It shocks her that Michael Hunter wasn't killed.

"Please Russell…" She pleads, resting her forehead against the cool glass, eyes shut, hot breath fogging, "Just give me _something.__"_

* * *

Lee McRary watches silently as he chews on a pieces of toast in his family home. His wife, Frannie, stands beside him, sipping on her coffee. Abigail McRary, a beautiful dirty blonde haired girl, sits at the kitchen table, coloring while she shovels chocolate cereal into her small mouth.

"How long will she be here?" Lee asks quietly, hoping not to stir a still sleeping Quinn in the other room.

"Only a few days at the most, she has school, after all." Frannie settles her coffee mug down on the kitchen counter and huffs, "I know you don't like the fact she's here, but she sounded like she really needed a shoulder to cry on."

"It's not that I mind she's here, but instead of looking after her, you should be looking after the baby you're carrying."

"She's my baby sister…" Russell chides, "And soon enough, I'll have to get used to looking after two people, won't I?"

Lee smiles and grins when his wife ruffles his brown hair playfully.

"C'mon, gimme a kiss before I go to work."

And as they kiss, Abigail looks up from her coloring book, milk dripping down her chin and shouts, "Mama and Papa love each'ova!"

* * *

It's only a matter of seconds after he's walked in the door after work, a ten hour shift as a computer technician, that his wife rushes up to him, tells him that his daughter is in bed and that his dinner is in the oven, before she races past him, hand clutched around her baby sister's hand as she drags her along. Quinn offers a sheepish look before she's pulled through the front door.

"Uh…" Lee mumbles, scratching the back of his head, "Okay?"

* * *

They're at Gulliver Creek, right by the Neposet River Reservation, and stood on a deserted plot of land, only the whirring of passing cars on the expressway filling the odd silence of the night.

"Why are we here?" Quinn asks, pivoting on the balls of her feet to look around. There's nothing, just flat greens and trees.

"Because I want to try something." She drops the bag that she'd pulled out from the backseat of her car and smiles. Quinn knows what it was; a change of clothes.

"I don't really feel like transforming right now…" Quinn turns her back, sighs and looks up to the skies; not a single star in the sky, no moon, a blank slate.

"We can go for a run, just the two of us, like the good old days."

Quinn huffs out a laugh, "I know what you're trying to do, Frannie. You're trying to make me feel all nostalgic, trying to take me back to a time when the only thing I had to worry about was getting my homework in on time. It's not going to work."

Frannie is silent, and Quinn sighs in quiet relief; she knew her sister's plan all along and the fact it backfired would no doubt annoy her.

All she wanted to do was sleep. She wanted to go lie down on that lumpy couch and sleep the night away and hopefully make it through the night without a nightmare. She wanted to make it through the night without seeing Rachel, lying in a pool of her own blood with a transformation gone wrong.

"I used to hate you, you know…"

Quinn's chin drops to her chest and she squeezes her eyes shut.

"After you first transformed, all of dad's attention went straight onto you. I didn't hate that, after all, he'd spent years personally training me. But you, when you made your first hunt, he saw something inside of you. Mom and I felt it too, of course, but he seemed so eager to know more. I knew what it was, I just didn't want to accept it. After all, why should you have the right to be an Alpha and not me?"

Quinn bites down softly on her bottom lip; she always knew that Frannie held some form of jealousy toward her because of her relationship with their father. But hatred?

"I hated you so much, for so long." Frannie sighs, turning her back to Quinn. The two sisters stand together, back to back, feet apart on an open plane. To anyone, it would look like a stand off, but the two women knew what they were doing; airing dirty laundry, burying old ghosts that still haunted them. "So when you were officially labelled as an Alpha, I wasn't really surprised." She chuckles softly, "In fact, I expected it."

Quinn's throat bobs as she swallows, slowly raising her head to hesitantly look over her shoulder, "Do you still hate me?"

"No, not anymore." She shakes her head, "I love you. You couldn't help that you were born with that gift. Now that I think about it, I don't think I'd want to be shouldered with that burden."

The younger blonde's shoulders shake with a silent laugh, "Tell me about it."

Frannie turns back around, eyes soft as she regards her sister, "So, want to go for a run?"

* * *

"All I can tell you is that you need to speak to Quinn, and then you need to think long and hard about what you really want because this isn't a decision anyone takes lightly.

Rachel straightens, pulling away from the window to look at Russell. "Then I'll talk to Quinn." And she heads to the study door, but Russell's voice stops her.

"It's late, you should go home."

"Russell."

"She isn't here, Rachel. She's gone to see her sister in Boston. She'll be back in a few days."

"Boston?!"

Russell nods, "It's only for a few days, she'll be back in no time."

"A few days…" Rachel sighs in resignation, but can't help but feel that Quinn might just stay in Boston to avoid all her problems. She might just run away forever.

* * *

They run, almost in tandem, paws pound in a melodic beat that sets the pace. They race from time to time, which Quinn always wins.

"_You__'__re cheating!__"_

"_Am not. Can__'__t help it if you__'__re slow, fatty.__"_

And although Frannie, and by default, her wolf are pregnant, she launches herself at her younger sister and tackles her to the ground. They play fight, playfully biting at one another's necks as they roll around in the dirt. It's only until Frannie has her sister pinned, do they stop.

"_I win!__" _Frannie thinks, smugly.

"_The only reason you won is because I won__'__t kick you off of me, after all, I have a baby nephew in there I need to protect, right?__"_

Frannie's pale blonde wolf is silent for a moment and its piercing blue eyes almost peer into Quinn's soul.

And then the wolf licks its chops before that very same tongue sends one long lick up along Quinn's snout.

"_Gross, Frannie!__"_

Frannie barks happily, then in the silence that follows, her voice fills Quinn's mind.

"_Do you want to think about it?__"_

No. Not tonight. Just for one night she wants to forget.

"_Not tonight, Frannie. Please.__"_

"_I__'__ll be here as long as you need me,__"__ She whispers before protectively lowering her head over Quinn__'s__, nose snuffing gently at flattened ears._

* * *

_I love you._

_So much._

_I miss you._

_So much._

_Quinn…please come back._

_I need you._

_**I love you too. Soon.**_

_When?_

_**When I**__**'**__**m ready to talk.**_

_Okay. I won__'__t push you._

_**Thanks, Rachel.**_

* * *

Quinn comes back two days later, looking a lot better than she did then when she left. It's a Saturday when the doorbell rings and her father answers the door, so when the call of her father's familiar voice shouts up the stairs, "Rachel! Quinn is here!" She just jumps from her seat and all but bolts out the door and down the stairs and straight into Quinn's open arms.

"You're back…" Rachel whispers quietly into Quinn's neck, smelling that familiar perfume that soothes and calms her, and when she feels the soft touch of her girlfriend's hands on her back, she sobs silently, comforted that Quinn _came back._

Hiram leaves them, shuffling away into the kitchen to give the two girls their privacy. He'd noticed that Rachel hadn't been herself for the past few days and he assumed it was because they had a falling out over Quinn disappearing to Boston for a few days, but after watching his daughter, he knew it was something deeper, something that even he, as a father, shouldn't be privy to.

His daughter had told him that Quinn was an Alpha, and about the needs that came along with it, so instead of prying, which he had an overwhelming need to do, he stepped back and let his daughter deal with the separation.

"I told you I'd be back, Rachel…" Quinn replies quietly, pressing a soft and soothing kiss to Rachel's temple. She holds her as she cries and barely fights off the tears herself; she feels horrible for leaving Rachel in the dark, even if it was just for a few days, but they hadn't exactly left on good terms. She shudders to think what went through Rachel's mind while she'd been gone.

Her father had filled her in, of course, hence why she had come so early in the morning. Seven am, a feat that Quinn never thought she could succeed in pulling off, but she'd done it, because she needed to see Rachel, she needed to smell Rachel, she needed to kiss Rachel.

So she pulls back, a hand running up to thread through silky brown hair, holding her by the back of her head. Hazel eyes scan Rachel's face; she doesn't look tired, she doesn't look like she's been losing sleep over anything. Her eyes shine with a gentle hope.

"Damn, I've missed you."

Rachel smiles shyly, "I've missed you too…"

And they're kissing, softly, slowly, sedately, until something snaps between the two of them almost like a bolt of lightning. Their clutching at each other's shirts, holding each other close as lips brush, teeth nip and tongues duel. They need to be close, they need to feel that connection that bonds them together.

"I can hear you!" Hiram chides from the kitchen and they pull apart almost as if they were electrocuted from the haze of their arousal. "Why thank you." Hiram adds, returning to his duties in the kitchen.

But it doesn't stop Quinn from pulling at the collar of Rachel's shirt, exposing a mark not hidden by make up, but clear to anyone who would glance upon it. She leans down and presses a soft kiss to the mark before flicking the tip of her tongue over it, sending shivers up and down Rachel's spine.

"Is it suppose to be that sensitive?" She asks with a quiet gasp.

Quinn chuckles against the skin, "I should have bitten you between your le-,"

"Quinn!"

"I want no lady babies made in this house, girls!"

* * *

"_Are you ready to talk?__"_

"_Yeah…__"__ Quinn settles down at the coffee table in front of her sister and her brother in law._

"_Lee, honey.__"__ Frannie hints softly._

"_No, I need his opinion on this too…__"_

_The man looks mildly surprised, eyebrows rising over the coffee cup his sips from, __"__Uh…sure.__"__ He settles the mug down and clasps his hands together on the kitchen table, settling himself into the conversation. Quinn and he had never really had much time conversing with one another, usually it was just a __'__hello, how__'__re you?__'__ and that was them done, so it came as a shock, a good shock, that she would ask for his help too._

"_So what__'__s wrong?__"__ Frannie asks, trying to hide the need to know what has Quinn so down. She__'__s always wanted to know other people__'__s business; that little pet peeve, she__'__d had since High School._

"_It__'__s about Rachel, you know, my mate?__"_

"_You marked her?__"__ Lee asks, genuinely shocked._

"_Holy…_shit!"

"_Sis!__"__ Quinn sighs tiredly, dropping her head forward into her hand._

"_Sorry, it__'__s just a big shock…__"__ She amends, __"__So…what__'__s the problem? Are you regretting it? Or, is Rachel?__"_

"_No, nothing like that. We had a fight and she kinda…well, she did, she asked me to turn her.__"_

"_Holy…_Shit!"

"_Lee!__"__ Quinn groans, shaking her head at her brother in law._

"_Sorry, that__'__s just…fuck, that__'__s brutal.__"_

"_Tell me about it.__"__ Quinn sighs, leaning back in her seat, chin to chest._

"_And how do you feel about that?__"__ Frannie asks, always the voice of reason._

"_How do I feel about sending my girlfriend to an early grave? Peachy.__"_

_Frannie raises an eyebrow, __"__Don__'__t be smarmy. You must know what can happen if you change her, but then again, it__'__s up to her and if that__'__s what she really wants, and she accepts the problems that couldn__'__t arise from it, you can__'__t really deny her.__"_

"_But why not…?__"_

_Lee smiles sadly, __"__It__'__s not in our nature, kiddo.__"_

"_Nature sucks…__"_

"_Just talk to her, Quinn. It__'__s all you can do.__"_

* * *

"I guess you're here because of what I asked you a few days ago?" Rachel asks, sitting on the edge of her bed, hands planted on her lap, looking sheepish. But when Quinn settles down on her knees before her and takes her hands in a gentle grip, she instantly settles; she's not in trouble.

"Do you know what the consequences are, Rachel? If I do that…I could-,"

"Kill me." Rachel adds helpfully, sadly, "I know."

"Rachel, I can't do that with any good reason. There's a slim to no chance that you'll survive and I'm not willing to lose you."

Her mate drops her head and sighs, "I can't say I'm not…upset by that, because honestly, I think the thought of you turning me, of being a werewolf, truly is invigorating."

"Rachel…"

"Can I at least think about it?" Rachel asks, hopefully.

"The prospect of me killing you?" Quinn exclaims, rocking back onto the balls of her feet. "Rachel, I'm not doing it!"

"I'm your mate, you can't deny me!" Then Rachel sighs, "I know there's a high probability I may not die, but if there's a chance, no matter how small, shouldn't I take it? I'd be a werewolf, I'd be one of you and…I'd feel so much more closer to you. I wouldn't feel as if I was being left in the dust all the time.."

Quinn frowns, "Is that the only reason why? Because you feel left out?" She shakes her head in disbelief, "My God, Rachel."

"Of course it's not! I'm not completely brain dead. I wouldn't consider such a dire solution if I was just 'left out'. I'm doing this because I want to be that much closer to you, I want to know what you're thinking. I always feel like I'm two steps behind you. I always feel so…belittled."

"I…" She sighs, "I didn't know I made you feel that way."

"You don't do intentionally, just when you tell me I won't understand what you're going through because I'm not a wolf, it just…_hurts.__"_

Quinn launches up, wrapping her arms tightly around Rachel's soft body. She envelops herself in the warmth; disgusted that she made her mate feel that way. She was suppose to protect her mate, not make her feel unsafe and belittled. Had she brought all of this on? Rachel's paranoia and her need to be included was brought on by her treatment?

"I'm so sorry…" Her wolf whimpers quietly, hidden away in the back of her mind, ashamed to even show itself proudly anymore.

"You didn't know you were doing it. Don't apologize for something you had no idea about." Rachel threads her hands through Quinn's hair, pulling at the tendrils, luxuriating in the way Quinn's body seems to melt against her own. They fit together, just like a puzzle piece, they belonged with one another.

"I still feel guilty," Quinn sighs, "And I'm still sorry."

"I guess I can't stop you feeling that way," Rachel smiles sadly, "Just like you can't stop me thinking about changing."

Quinn pulls back slightly, tilting her head up to regard Rachel, "Please…don't make me do it."

"I'm only thinking about it, Quinn."

"But…" Tears shine her eyes, "There's only two options and I'm scared you'll chose the one I don't want you to chose. I can't lose you." She buries her head against Rachel's chest, lips pressed against the mark.

"Just…" Quinn sighs raggedly, fighting back tears, "Just let me think about it, Quinn. At least give me that right."

And it hurts, because it's the last thing she wants, but she nods, because _it__'__s in her nature._

Deny your mate is denying yourself. You cannot do it.

* * *

"_To deny your mate is denying yourself. You cannot do it.__"__ Lee offers, oddly mage-like. __"__Trust me, I tried with Fran dozens of times. She wanted to stay in Boston, I didn__'__t, but in the end we stayed because I couldn__'__t deny her.__"_

"_No, we stayed because Boston is a nice place to have our children grow up, stop acting like I__'__m the bad guy.__"_

_Quinn smiles softly at their bickering, before sobering, __"__But…I can__'__t lose her.__"_

"_I know, sis. But Rachel can think for herself and if it__'__s what she really wants, you have to give it to her.__"_

"_I need her in my life though. If she chooses to change, what would I do then?__"_

"_I…__"__ Frannie turns to Lee in a silent plead for help._

"_We can__'__t help you there, Quinn. You need to respect her decision."_

"_I want her. I need her.__"_

"_We know, sis.__"__ Frannie sighs quietly, __"__So you marked her?__"__ She asks, glad to change the morbid subject, __"__That means you__'__re going to be going wherever she is, huh?__"_

"_New York.__"__ Quinn nods softly, but not really meeting her older sisters eyes._

"_What__'__s wrong?__"__ Lee asks, leaning forward in his seat to catch his sister in law__'__s eyes._

"_I don__'__t have the money,__"__ She says, flat out coming clean after a month of lying and keeping it to herself. It feels so utterly euphoric she actually slumps back into her seat and sighs with relief, but then the reality kicks in. __"__Mom and dad only saved a terms worth for NYU because they thought I was getting a scholarship, that and I was only planning to stay at OSU before I met Rachel.__"_

_Frannie is oddly quiet, leaning back in her own seat as Lee shrugs his shoulders, __"__Hey, you have a car. Even if you can__'__t get to NYU, you can easily drive over there on the weekends. And you always have phone calls and Skype to keep each other occupied until you can see one another.__"_

"_It__'__s not the same. I need to be there, I need to see her and…I need to be able to smell her.__"__ It sounds so odd telling this to a man she never really spoke to, but the way his eyes soften, almost like he understands her, keeps her going, __"__I can__'__t get that through a phone, or through a laptop screen. I need to feel her skin, I need to see those eyes shine whenever I make her smile.__"_

"_I know that feeling.__"__ Lee smiles sadly, __"__When I went away for work two weeks before our wedding, I was crawling the walls of my hotel room. I spoke to her hourly, Skyped nightly, but it still wasn__'__t the same.__"_

"_You need that closeness-,__"_

"_You need to know that they__'__re only a step away.__"_

_Quinn and Lee fall into a comfortable silence and Frannie, who had remained quiet for the whole conversation, suddenly springs back to life, __"__Haven__'__t you spoken to Uncle Noble?__"_

"_Uncle Noble? You mean Alfred?__"_

"_Yeah,__"__ She nods, __"__He__'__s almost like an uncle, I call him that.__"_

"_Why would I need to talk to him? He__'__s helped me with my training already.__"_

"_I__'__m talking about your college fund.__"_

"_What about it?__"__ Then she rolls her eyes with a scoff, __"__Or lack of.__"_

"_Oh gosh, you don__'__t know…__"_

* * *

"I need to go see Alfred." Quinn pulls back and wipes the tears that mar her cheeks, "Meet me at the park tonight?"

"Quinn…"

"Please? I just need to sort something out."

Rachel sighs, eyes scanning her girlfriend's face and seeing the silent pleading look that she gives, her resolve crumbles and she nods, "Okay. I'll be there. Midnight, like usual?"

"Midnight." And she presses a soft kiss to her girlfriend's lips, her nose, her forehead, both temples before repeating the whole sequence again before leaving.

She needs to sort this out for good.

* * *

"_They never told you.__"__ Frannie shakes her head, __"__Typical mom and dad, if they can__'__t read their children__'__s mind then they just assume nothing is wrong. They__'__ve become so dependent on reading their children__'__s minds that they don__'__t do the normal parenting that every other human parent does.__"_

"_Sis.__"_

"_Mom and dad only saved you one term, because that was all they were told to save.__"_

"_What…?__"_

"_Alfred Noble and his wife aren__'__t as straight and narrow as you may think. Alfred inherited a huge nest egg after his father died in battle with an Alpha from Florida. Alfred had no need for the money though, so he put it into a saving__'__s account, never to be touched. Him and his father apparently didn__'__t get along, so he didn__'__t really want to touch the money that he__'__d had. After the years, it began accumulating interest, and by the time I was due to go to College, although I had my scholarship and a full ride, he offered me a considerable about of money as down payment for a home when I left.__"_

"_This house…?__"_

"_You seriously think we can afford it on Lee__'__s salary?__"_

"_I work hard for my money, babe.__"_

"_Shush up, I__'__m speaking. I used the money as a deposit for this house and I__'__ve been using it ever since to pay off the mortgage every month. He propositioned dad with the money for when he retired, seeing as though he didn__'__t have any use for the money, so instead, dad asked if the money that he would have gotten, could be used for his daughter__'__s education. Alfred agreed, simply because he saw us both as his grandchildren, not by blood, but the emotional connection was there.__"_

"_So that means…__"_

"_Dad was offered $200,000, almost all of the money that Alfred had in his saving__'__s account. He split it down the middle for both of us. I took $100,000, you took $100,000.__"_

"_But…the…__"__ Her mouth dropped open, __"__But the money mom and dad were saving-,__"_

"_Was for you to use on a new car and the expenses along with it. Alfred asked them to save money for the both of us; he knew we wouldn't stay in Lima, he knew we had bigger things planned."_

"_I__'__m dreaming.__"_

"'_Fraid not, kiddo.__"__ Lee chuckles, sipping at his lukewarm coffee, half spilling it down his shirt as Quinn dives over the kitchen table to hug them both._

* * *

Cybil opens the door first and when she's entrapped in a steel like hug, she gasps for air before mercifully being let go, "Why hello to you too, Quinn."

"Sorry, I just…" Her eyes shoot across Cybil's face, truly taking the woman in for the first time since they met, "Just, thank you."

Cybil frowns, but then slowly, eventually, the penny drops and she smiles lovingly, "Anytime. Now come in, I won't be the only one subjected to your overbearing hugs." Quinn follows the old woman in, shutting the door carefully behind her, trying not to slam it through the doorframe and out the other side in her excitement. "He's in the living room, I'll make some tea."

And only when Cybil Is safely through the living room and into the kitchen, does Quinn bolt into the living room and all but tackle the eighty year old octogenarian as he reads the morning paper on the couch.

"Oh gosh!" Alfred exclaims, trapped between an overly excited, thrumming body and the back of the couch, "Quinn! What are you doing?"

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She plants a sloppy kiss to his forehead, one, in his daze he accepts. And before he knows it, Quinn is pulling back, grinning giddily at him, "Thank you, so much."

"I have no idea what-," Realization dawns, then he grins playfully, "You're quite welcome."

But then the girl before him is breaking down, sobbing, but still smiling.

"What's wrong?" He asks, only mildly concerned because of that smile.

"You've saved me. You really have."

* * *

Midnight. A time that belongs to two girls who are bonded to one another forever. At a park where it all began, but will never end. At a swing that belongs wholly to Rachel as she swings back and forth, luxuriating in the soft breeze that sifts past her with each swing. And Quinn, who she belongs to, watches with a barely kept back grin from the entrance of the park, arms stuffed in the jacket of her hoodie, only just holding back the excitement of the news she has to give.

And with each footstep closer to Rachel, she smells her scent, she somehow feels the warmth and love that Rachel naturally gives off, and suddenly, Rachel is pulled back into her arms, still sat on the swing, hands clenched around rusted chains.

They're silent, quietly enjoying the moment of being together once more. But it's only when Quinn brings her lips to Rachel's ear and an almost silent whisper of, "I have the money." Does the scream of excitement that Rachel let's off cut through the stoic air, finally bringing life to a park that no longer held childhood dreams and fantasy, but of a promised future.


End file.
